Separate Destinies
by Annie-chan
Summary: Status: Complete. Sora, Riku, and Kairi are reunited, but Riku is hearing voices in his head and is starting to show signs of an unexplainable power. What is going on here? Rated for occasional sensuality.
1. Returning Home

**Author's Notes:**  Finally, I'm starting my _Kingdom Hearts_ fanfic!  I've been promising several of my friends this practically since I started the game, and I've finally finished it (I know it can be beaten very quickly, but I like to take my sweet time with video games), so I can at last start my fic.  I noticed that the secret ending just screams sequel, and was more of a preview than an extension of the normal ending.  That shady-looking character with the blindfold looks suspiciously like Riku! *wink*  Anyway, I'm not going to try speculating what it'll be about, or I'll drive myself crazy.  This fanfic will just have to deny the events of any sequel(s) made, and you can go so far as to call it an alternate sequel, if you wish.

IMPORTANT NOTE:  I've already discussed major plot points with some of my friends as I straightened out what I wanted to happen, so those few already know what this will be about.  I ask that, if you're one of them, please don't spoil it for anyone else.  I want to keep an element of surprise for the majority of the readers.

_Kingdom Hearts_ does not belong to me.  It and the characters therein belong to Disney Interactive, SquareSoft, and any other copyright holders in the United States and Japan.  This story, though, is my own unique creation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter One:  Returning Home 

On a high balcony in the central castle of the Hollow Bastion, a lone figure stood silently, contemplating what he was seeing.  The castle, dead and bleak under Maleficent's command, had come back to life, just as it had been when Ansem had ruled, before he had let the darkness take him.  The courtyard below him, a favorite gathering place, was alive with activity again.

This was happening all over the universe.  The worlds that had been consumed by the Heartless had been restored, and the worlds that had been taken over but not destroyed were returning to their original state.  Unfortunately, the walls between the worlds had also been reinstated, making interplanetary travel impossible again.  Still, the knowledge that other worlds existed was a step forward from before the Heartless began attacking.  Perhaps a way to travel to other worlds would become possible again, but for now, it was beyond the reach of modern science or even magic.

_Not for my people_, the man thought.  _Not if we have the strength and skill to do so._

Squall, Aerith, and Yuffie were almost directly below him.  Those three were often together, and he had come to count them among his friends.  Several other friends and acquaintances were down there in the courtyard.  He probably would have joined them, but he had other things to do right now.

A much older friend was here.  He had appeared out of nowhere and asked for his help, a sense of urgency in his voice and manner.  The very fact that _he_ would ask for help at all indicated just how grave the situation was.  His friend was right now in a secluded room deep in the castle underground, even deeper than the waterway, and he was getting ready for what he needed help with.  It wasn't terribly complicated, but it needed his full concentration.

The man turned and walked from the balcony, toward the front of the castle.  His friend was actually a blood relative of his, but they were very distant cousins, making the familial bond quite faint.  Their acquaintance was more through friendship than a sense of family.  They weren't even that close, but they had a mutual respect for each other.  Sometimes, they were more rivals than friends, and their competition could be very serious indeed.

It was an ever-changing relationship.

He looked out toward the Rising Falls.  They were a very strange phenomenon, even on a magic-saturated world such as the Hollow Bastion.  The sight of water falling up instead of down was a source of wonder, even for those who frequented the place.  The floating boulders that dotted the area were more commonplace than rising waterfalls.

_Come_, a voice echoed in his mind.  _I am ready._

The man took one last look at the Rising Falls, then disappeared, teleporting from the High Crest to the deep chamber where the other man waited.

"Good, you're here," the second man said with a smile.  "Go over there.  There is a seeing device."

"So, you just need me to find them and tell you what's going on?" the first man asked.

"That's right," the second man nodded.  "I'll take care of the rest."

The first man walked over to the seeing device, which was a small bowl of water.  The bowl was enchanted so that, if there was water in it, those with strong wills can see wherever and whatever they want in the water's surface.  After a few minutes, he spoke.

"I found them," he said.  "What is this boy's name again?"

The second man gave a half-smile.  "Riku."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku was sitting on the stone floor, his back leaning against the smooth rock wall that had once had a large, white door set into it.  It was just a wall now.

Kingdom Hearts, the heart of all worlds, had him and King Mickey of Disney Castle trapped inside it.

Said mouse came scampering out of the twisty rock formations on the other side of the small enclosure.  He could fit into the small spaces better than Riku could, and was less likely to get stuck.

"Well?" Riku asked.

Mickey sighed, his round black ears drooping a little.  "Nothing.  I can't find any way out of here.  Not even a bug tunnel."

"Great," Riku said blandly, leaning his head back.  "I guess we're stuck here."

"You don't regret it, do you?" the mouse asked.  "I had to stay to close the door for good, but you could have slipped out and helped Sora close it from the outside."

"No, I don't," Riku replied.  "I decided to stay to atone for my sins.  I helped the darkness along so far, and I almost killed my friends and destroyed all worlds by being gullible enough to let Ansem take my body over.  Staying behind to make sure the darkness was sealed was the least I could do."

"You have a good heart, Riku," Mickey said.  "I like you already!"

Riku smiled.  "Thanks, Your Majesty."

"Aw, just call me Mickey," Mickey said.

"Okay," Riku nodded.  He leaned his head back again.  "I don't regret staying here, but now I realize we have no food or water, and there's no seeable way out.  What if we starve to death here?"

Mickey shrugged.  "Well, if we do, I guess it's the price we have to pay for entering Kingdom Hearts.  Don't worry, though.  We made sure the darkness was defeated.  We played our part in all this, and…"

Riku was no longer listening at this point.  He was looking up at the soft white glow coming from the back of Kingdom Hearts, as if mesmerized.  He was listening instead to another voice, and it was speaking directly into his mind.

_I can get you out of here_, it said, though Riku was more aware of the idea conveyed than the actual words.  _Both you and the mouse.  Just concentrate and follow my lead._

"I know…" Riku said quietly.

"Huh?" Mickey asked, confused.

"I can get us out of here," Riku replied, his voice a little slurry, as if he was in a light trance.  He finally looked directly at Mickey, and the mouse finally got a good look at his eyes.

Mickey's eyes widened.  "You're a—!"

_Keep it a secret_, a strong voice suddenly interrupted, and Mickey swore he could see a dark figure of a man standing behind Riku, though Riku was leaning against the wall.  The figure's sharp eyes were the most prominent feature.  _I will tell him when the time comes._

Bright, pure-white light suddenly started shining from Riku's body, as if his skin had lit up from inside.  He made no sound, but the light spread until it washed out the sight of everything else.  Mickey felt like he was weightless, floating in midair…

…and he was suddenly lying in grass, looking up at clear blue sky.

A joyful bark split the air, and a weight landed on him.  He found himself staring straight into Pluto's face as the dog half-stood on him, panting happily over seeing Mickey again.

"Pluto!" Mickey laughed.  "Boy, and I glad to see you!"  He pushed the dog off and sat up.  Before he could say anything, though, a splash of yellow and blue in the green grass caught his eye.

Riku was lying several feet from him, and though he didn't look ill or injured, he wasn't moving at all.

"Uh-oh!" Mickey gulped, reflexively fishing around in his pockets.  He always kept paper and a pen with him for emergencies like this.  He scribbled out a short note on a piece of paper, folded it, and put it into an envelope with the royal seal on it.  He was lucky he had it, since it was the last one in his little supply.  He gave it to Pluto.  "Go get help, boy!"

Pluto sped off.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"They've gotten out of Kingdom Hearts and landed in the outskirts of the Disney kingdom," the first man told the second.  "Riku's unconscious, though."

"I expected as much," the second man nodded.  "His body isn't really ready for the strain of interdimensional or even interplanetary teleportation."

"Are you sure he can do it again, then?" the first man asked.  "It could severely damage or even kill him."

"He can," the second man said, conviction in his voice.  "Just remember who his father is."

The first man paused, then nodded.  "Right."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Man!  Just how long does this road go on for?" Sora panted as he ran after the dog in front of him.  "Slow down, Pluto!"

The dog did stop, but he turned around and looked at Sora, anxious to go on.

Sora's two companions were also tired.

"Stupid mutt!" Donald quacked.

"But, we're almost to the edge of the kingdom!" Goofy said, in higher spirits than the other two, as he normally was.  "We gotta be close!"

"All right, all right!" Sora said.  "We walk, though!"  Again, he set off after Pluto, ignoring Donald's complaints that they should rest for longer.  He trudged up the next hill, his enthusiasm to follow the dog considerably less than it had been to begin with.  What kept him from giving up for another day was the fact that Riku was likely with Mickey.

At the top of the hill, he looked out over more grassy terrain.  Just how close to the edge did Goofy mean?  It wasn't until he looked down at the base of the hill that his spirits leapt.

"Oh!" he cried, taking off in a run again.  "Riku!"  Gravity tripped him up, and he rolled the rest of the way down.  After coming to a stop, he scrambled over to Riku as fast as he could, calling his motionless friend's name.  "Riku!  Riku!"  He looked up at Mickey.  "Is he okay?!"

"Oh, he's fine," Mickey nodded with a smile.  "I checked him over after I sent Pluto for help.  Seems he's just plain tuckered out.  He was the one who got us out of Kingdom Hearts."

"He was?" Sora asked, perplexed.

"I'll tell you about it later, but we should probably get him to the castle," Mickey replied.  "I could be wrong about why he's sleeping."

Sora nodded, gently lifting Riku's top half, putting the silver-haired boy into a reclining position.  Even by not picking him up, he could tell he was a little too much for Sora himself to carry.  Riku wasn't much taller than him, and Sora was a pretty strong boy, but Riku's muscle mass was considerably more than his, making him a good deal heavier.  He was sleek and slender, not big and bulky, but he was still noticeably bigger than Sora the Toothpick.  It was a nickname Riku often teased Sora with.

"Hey, Goofy," Sora called to the bigger of his two companions, who were just now catching up.  "Give me a hand here, will you?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sora has found Riku," the first man said.

"Good," the second man smiled.  "This is going smoother than I feared."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Someone was pouring water down his throat.  That was the first clear sensation Riku was aware of, and it startled him.  He reflexively, and unwisely, gasped, inhaling some of the water.

"Ack!" Sora yelped as Riku suddenly convulsed and coughed.  He jumped and lost his grip on the bowl of water, dropping it on Riku and soaking the white hospital gown the royal physician had put on the unconscious boy.

"Sora!" Riku spluttered, still coughing.  "Thanks a lot!"

"Sorry!" Sora cried, still managing to hold Riku in a sitting position.  He was happy he hadn't dropped him, which would have been even more embarrassing.

"Jeez," Riku sighed, his coughing stopped.  "What a way to wake me up, Sora."

"I didn't expect you to wake up so suddenly," Sora said, a little guiltily.

"Where are we?" Riku asked, looking around.  "How long have I been out?"

"We're in the hospital wing of Disney Castle, and you've been unconscious for about four hours, according to King Mickey," Sora answered.

"Have you been watching over me?" Riku asked, looking at Sora.

"The whole time," Sora nodded.  "I was scared you were worse than you seemed."

Riku felt a grateful smile tug at his lips.  "Thank you, Sora."

_Later_, a voice said suddenly.  _I can lend you the strength to get you back to the Destiny Islands, but I've kept my connection with you for a long time.  I may not be able to hold it for much longer._

"Riku?" Sora asked, puzzled at Riku's sudden blank look.

_I'm sorry for rushing you_, the voice continued, _but please save your happy reunion for later.  The link is beginning to weaken._

"Sora," Riku said, "we have to go now."

"What?" Sora blinked, even more confused.

"I can get us back to the Destiny Islands, like I got Mickey and myself out of Kingdom Hearts, but we have to do it now!" Riku explained, urgency in his voice.

"B-but," Sora stammered, surprised, "I haven't said goodbye to Goofy and Donald!"

"Then, hurry and go!" Riku shouted.  "Now!"

Stunned, Sora ran out of the room.  As he watched him go, Riku heard the voice in his head chuckle at the sudden rush in the boy.

"Who are you?" he asked.

_You will meet me someday_, the voice answered, _and I will tell you then.  But, it may not be for a long while yet, so be patient.  For now, get ready to go._

The voice wouldn't answer any more questions, so Riku finally jumped up, stripped, grabbed his clothes off of a nearby chair, and quickly dressed again.

He felt warm energy gathering in him, just like right before he blacked out in Kingdom Hearts.

"Wait!" he cried.  "Sora's not back yet!  Don't leave him behind!"

_I cannot keep this connection any longer_, the voice replied.  _Even with my considerable strength, mental links that cross the voids of space are very hard to maintain._

"But, Sora—!"

"Riku!"

Riku whirled around.  Sora had just burst back through the door, and was stunned to see his friend glowing like a beacon.  Without a word, Riku lunged at the smaller boy and tackled him.  Sora gritted his teeth, expecting a hard impact with the floor, yet it never came.

That was odd.  He was weightless…

…he was FALLING!

SPLASH!

Sora found himself underwater, and he reflexively relaxed, allowing himself to float up to the top.  When he broke the surface, he immediately righted himself, coughing out salty water.  Riku was floating a few feet away from him.

"Aw, man!" Sora groaned.  "He's unconscious again!"  He held Riku so his head was above the water, and then realized how familiar the hot sun and warm seawater felt.  He looked around them, and felt his heart leap with joy when he saw they were less than fifty yards offshore a small island.  It was the tiny islet that the kids of the Destiny Islands came to to have fun.

Sora eagerly swam toward shore, pulling Riku along behind him.  Oh, it had been so long since he'd seen these beautiful beaches!

"Kairi!" Sora called.  "Selphie!  Wakka!  Tidus!  Everyone!"

"Sora?" a soft, feminine voice replied, and Sora saw a tiny redhead emerge from a wooden shack near the water.  "Oh, my gosh!  SORA!"  She dashed down the beach and splashed into the water as Sora found it shallow enough he had to hoist Riku up to keep him from dragging on the sandy bottom.  She threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time.  "How did you get here so quickly?!  It was only a little while ago that you promised to come back!  I thought I'd have to wait forever!"

Sora was laughing as well.  "You wouldn't believe it!  I don't even know what happened!  Riku could probably explain much better than I could!"

"Riku?" Kairi asked, then looked down at her unconscious friend, his hair swirling lazily in the shallows.  "Oh, no!  What happened to him?!"

"He's okay," Sora assured her.  "He's just really tired out.  Can you help me get him into the shade?"  A few minutes later, they had Riku laid out in a shady, grassy area under some palm trees.

"Mm…" Riku muttered, and he began to stir.  His eyes cracked open, making the other two grin at seeing him awake.

Riku blinked.  His eyes were very unfocused, but he could swear that the two darker blobs in the blur of colors that he saw were two people bending over him.

"Welcome home, Riku," he heard Kairi say.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sora and Riku have made it home," the first man told his companion.

"Good," the second man sighed, visibly tired.  "I hate these interplanetary connections.  You think you're doing fine, then you're suddenly feeling your strength melting away."

"You kept it up much longer than anyone else could, though," the first man said.  "You are the strongest among us, after all."

"Yes," the second man nodded.  "My son is showing very high promise, though.  Given time, he may even surpass me."

"It will certainly be quite impressive if he does," the first man agreed.  "I just hope he takes to the training well.  You know how he's…different."

The second man shot the first man a scathing glare.  "His mother's inferior bloodline has no holding over his potential!"  The words were laced with bitterness and regret.  "I'll never forgive myself for mating with that slattern, but my son was the result!  I will not look down upon him for my own mistake!"

The first man held up his hands in concession.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to anger you."

The second man let out his breath slowly, calming himself.  "I thank you for your help.  I appreciate it."

The first man shrugged.  "You've done plenty for me.  I should pay you back whenever I get the chance."

"If you want to," the second man said.  "You can go now.  I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are."  He picked up the seeing bowl and it vanished, disappearing into whatever place he kept the items he kept with him.  "I will see you again sometime."  He lowered his head in a quick, slight bow, then vanished from sight.

The first man disappeared a second later as well, returning to the high balcony above the courtyard, hoping no one below noticed his unconventional entrance.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  This prologue got much longer than I anticipated, so I decided to make it chapter one instead.  I probably won't have any regular update schedule for this fic, since I can never follow them even if I try.  I'll just write chapters when I feel like it, which will hopefully be often.  Chapter length is also up in the air.  Since I write things as they come to me, they may be long, they may be short, or they may vary in length.  We shall see.  Again, if you know what this story is about, DON'T SPOIL IT FOR ANYONE!  That includes not saying anything spoilerish about future events or characters in feedback.  I want the other readers to be surprised about who these mysterious two men are, what their connection to Riku is, and who the second man's seemingly illegitimate son is.  The significance of the title will eventually be explained, as well.  I hope I have plenty of people wondering.  I also hope you all like this first chapter.  Let me know in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	2. Terrible Secret

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

I am very far under the impression that the worlds in the _Kingdom Hearts_ universe are much bigger than they're represented in the game, and have far more people on them.  I kinda find it hard to believe that the Destiny Islands are composed entirely of one tiny islet with a population that includes only Sora, Riku, Kairi, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka.  The plurality of "Islands" suggests more islands, anyway.  It's the same concept that allows towns in most RPGs to be no more than six buildings with a maximum of a dozen residents, usually less.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Two:  Terrible Secret 

It was evening in Fate, the capital city of the Destiny Islands.  The sun was beginning to set, and the shadows were growing long indeed, shrouding the side of the large island on which Fate sat.  Riku, who was on the beach side of Fate, was watching the purple clouds and dark blue sky opposite the sunset.

It had been a long while since he had longed to get off this isolated island chain.  First of all, the ordeal with the Heartless had awoken the citizens from the sleepy lifestyle they had led for generations, and since their world had been restored, they'd built larger boats and sailed out into the unknown ocean, as Riku and his two closest friends had once planned.  In the years since the near-disaster with Ansem and the Heartless, more than two-dozen other small chains similar to the Destiny Islands had been discovered on the tiny water-world.  The Destiny Islanders were not the only ones seeking other civilizations, and it wasn't uncommon for ships to meet or at least see each other as they crossed the deep water.  In a scant three years, busy routes transporting goods, news, and people between the chains had opened up.  The monotonous island life had suddenly acquired quite a variety to it.

The second reason that Riku's wanderlust had been dimmed was that his get-out-and-go attitude had been dealt a serious blow three years ago.  In his desire to explore, he had left his heart open and vulnerable to the darkness to enter, and enter it did.  Ansem had taken complete control of him after a time, his body, mind, and soul totally under his command.  Only when Ansem had concentrated his attention on taking his true physical form did his hold on Riku's soul weaken.  His spirit had somehow broken through to his mind, and he had fought back against Ansem as hard as he could, but his body had been beyond his reach, and no matter how much he had struggled, he had still been a prisoner of the man's deranged scheme to somehow master the darkness.

_I was weak_, he mused.  _I was the best fighter on the Destiny Islands, but my heart lacked strength._  Truth be told, he was still the best fighter on the islands, as Sora's mastery of the Keyblade still did not surpass Riku's astonishing skill.  Riku had lost to Sora in the Hollow Bastion because Sora had had the superior weapon as well as two others fighting alongside him.  The darkness spreading through Riku's heart had probably also contributed to his loss.

_I wonder why I'm so good at fighting_, Riku wondered, lying back in the grass.  _I've always taken to weapons well, no matter what they are.  I like the sword best, but I just have to try a little, and I can wield whatever I want with passable proficiency.  Hell, I could take out Wakka with his own blitzball, if I wanted to._  Granted, a playing ball isn't what you would call a conventional weapon, and using it as one wasn't terribly complicated, but the dark-skinned boy had an almost freakish ability to turn it into a lethal projectile.  He was almost as good at knocking people out with it as he was playing the sport it was made for.

For years, as far back as Riku could remember, he had been having strange dreams.  They were dreams of outlandish places seething with strange magic, people that he could only describe as breezy and timeless, and a strange sense that he somehow belonged in those places and with those people.  They were usually very hazy, and he couldn't remember much once he woke up, but they offered the only clue to why he had such a natural ability to fight.  He wasn't sure how, but he had the impression that this world he was dreaming of, however beautiful and peaceful it seemed, was surrounded by danger, and the inhabitants _had_ to have an instinctive fighting ability, or they would not survive.  If he really did belong with these people, it would be plausible that he would have their fighting instinct, wouldn't it?

Every since hearing that strange voice in Kingdom Hearts and Disney Castle three years ago, he had a strong suspicion that maybe those dreams were coming from that person, or at least they were related somehow.  Maybe the voice came from one of those people, and they somehow had a connection with him.  Riku had absolutely no proof of this, though.  For all he knew, they could be totally disconnected.

_They probably are_, Riku thought, closing his eyes.  _I bet the dreams are just an escapist attempt by my own overactive imagination._  His home life was less than perfect, and these wild fantasies about belonging with a strange, otherworldly people was probably just a desperate cry to get away.  And, as for the voice in his head, why would he have connections with someone like that?  He had been born in Fate and had lived here with his mother his entire life.  He was sure there were plenty of powerful beings in the universe, and perhaps one happened to become aware that he and Sora had no way to get home, and they had taken pity on them by lending Riku the power to take them back.

_I haven't heard that voice at all for three years_, Riku thought, _not even in my dreams.  They've probably forgotten I even exist._

The sun had completely set, and the stars were now shining brightly.  Riku continued to lie there and stare into the night, his green eyes reflecting the faint, glittering starlight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"How was work today, Riku?" Kairi asked as they walked in the direction of the house Riku lived in with his mother.  It was near the east side of Fate, and the shadows were beginning to elongate as the sun began setting.

"Not bad," Riku replied.  "You wouldn't believe the group of tourists that came in today, though.  I was the only one in the store at the time, and they probably made me get one of everything in the store out for them to look at and price, then they ended up buying some of the _first_ things they looked at. I was probably with them for at least forty-five minutes, and I'm lucky no one else happened to come in while they were there."  Riku worked as a sales associate in a souvenir shop near the beach.  Since the island chains came in contact with each other, tourism had of course become common among those with money to burn, and everyone wanted a souvenir to take back home with them.  Riku worked in one of the many shops of the like in Fate.  He made a face as Kairi giggled.

"My mom's been teaching me all sorts of recipes lately," Kairi said.  "As you know, I work in her little bakery as a cashier, but she said I should know just as much as she does about making the food instead of just selling it.  She wants me to take over once she's old enough to retire, and she said the earlier I learn, the better."

"What about you, Sora?" Riku asked.  "Got a job yet?"

"No," Sora replied, and the other two could detect a bit of hesitation to answer.

"What?" Riku grinned, teasing.  "You're seventeen years old and still living totally off your parents?"

"Shut up," Sora growled with a mock scowl.  "I've been looking for one, but I babysit those twin cousins of mine a lot.  A large chunk of the time I could be job-hunting, I'm babysitting."

"I know, I know," Riku said.  "Don't worry.  You'll find one soon.  Then, you'll have an excuse to not babysit those cousins of yours, and you'll be getting paid for what you'd be doing instead, to boot."

"There's your house, Riku," Kairi said, pointing.  It was built about fifty feet up into a huge tree trunk on bridge-like supports, with a house below it and one above it.  Riku's grandparents had bought and paid for it, and it had passed on to their only child, Riku's mother, upon their deaths.

"Y'know, Riku," Sora started, "we've all known each other since we were really young children, yet not once have Kairi or I been to your house.  We've been by it and seen your mother a few times, but we've never actually been _inside_ your house."

Riku paused.  "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," Sora replied.  "I was just wondering out loud.  It's really weird, though, either way you look at it.  You're our best friend, but we've never been in your house."

"I've always wondered about it, too, Riku," Kairi added.  "I've just never brought it up."

Riku looked at the two, an unusually somber look in his eyes.  "I don't expect that to change anytime soon, you two."  Having that said, he turned and started up the wooden walkway that wound around the tree, leading to the houses perched against its massive trunk.

"Riku!" Sora called.  "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Riku called back, turning and giving them a wave.  When he disappeared around the trunk and reappeared again on the other side a little higher up, he saw that the other two, perplexed as they were at his behavior, had begun to walk off to their own homes.

Truth be told, he would have ripped his own eyes out before he willingly let on just _why_ he kept his home life a secret from even his two dearest friends.

As he passed by the open window to his living room, his sharp ears picked up a squeak.  It sounded like the squeal of mattress springs…

A rush of indignant anger shot through him, and he gripped the doorknob to the front door and threw it open with more vehemence than was probably necessary.  His mom had brought home yet another of her "boyfriends".

"Damn it, Mom!" he roared, slamming the door shut.  "You want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood?!  What kind of empty-headed cathouse floozy are you?!"  He pushed the door to her bedroom, which was ajar, completely open.  He didn't even flinch at the sight of his naked mother perched atop an equally naked man who had to be closer to his own age than he was to his mother's.  He had come home to this too often to flinch anymore.

"Riku!" his mother squawked, obviously taken by complete surprise.

"Which one is _this_, huh?" Riku gritted through his teeth.  "_How_ many have you brought home this month?  Five?  We're only halfway through the month!  Have you _ever_ stopped to think that there's another person living here, and that other person _really_ doesn't like to hear you getting yourself stuffed every other night?!"  He had lost all respect for his mother years ago, and didn't shy away from speaking to her like this.

"I didn't expect you home yet, and don't you talk to me like that, young man!" his mother spat back.

"It's six o'clock!" Riku said, pointing at the clock on the wall for emphasis.  "I'm late!  I told you I'd be home a half-hour ago!  Besides, whether I'm home or not, you left this door open, the front door unlocked, the living room windows open…what, you didn't care who might walk by?!"

"Just who are you?!" the young man asked, clearly confused.

"Who am I?!" Riku asked in disbelief.  "Who am I?!  I'm her _son_!"

"What?!" the man exclaimed in shock.  His reaction was enough to make Riku laugh, thought it was a mirthless laugh.

"I'll bet he doesn't know you're old enough to have an eighteen-year-old son, does he?" Riku grinned a little oddly.  "He can't be more than twenty-three himself!"

"RIKU!" his mother shrieked, furious with her son.  Riku absently waved her off.

"Go ahead and finish," he said blandly, his bitter laughter gone.  "I'm not going to even bother, and I sure as hell am not staying here tonight."  Without another word, he walked out.  Slowly trudging up the wooden walkway, heading up to a high stargazing platform, he concentrated on his breathing, willing himself to calm down.  He was still very angry by the time he reached it.

It was here that he usually let his pent-up anger toward his mother loose.

"Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!" he shouted at no one, punching a thick branch.  His knuckles popped with the impact, but he hardly noticed.  Words couldn't describe the loathing he felt for his sole parent, and a deeper, even more intense resentment roiled just beneath the surface.  His good-for-nothing father hadn't even stuck around to see him born.  He was probably just another of his mother's brief, meaningless affairs, and there was a good chance he didn't even know of Riku's existence.  If he did know about Riku, he obviously hadn't wanted a child, and had just walked away.  For all Riku knew, he may live just a block away or so.  Regardless of if his father knew about him or not, he couldn't help but feel a soul-deep hatred for him for leaving his son with a mother straight out of Hell.

His mother had made it quite clear on several occasions that she hadn't wanted him, either, which made Riku wonder why she hadn't given him up for adoption or even terminated her pregnancy.  Abortion was perfectly legal in their island chain, if not always looked upon favorably.

_She had me and kept me for the tax break, I'll bet_, he thought bitterly, climbing up into a natural bowl formed by the tree's branches.  The night was going to be warm, and the space was perfect for someone of his size to curl up and sleep in.  It wasn't the first time he had slept out here, anyway.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Riku walked slowly back down to the house.  His body was a bit sore from sleeping in one position all night, but he had gotten used to it.  He really didn't want to return home at the moment, but he needed to eat and change clothes so he could go to work in a couple hours.

He found the door unlocked.  What a surprise.  His mother usually hadn't the head to lock it at night, too tangled up with her current lay.  When he opened the door, he found her seated at the table, smoking a cigarette and staring out the window with a self-pitying look on her face.

"Gee, where's your Lolita boy?" Riku asked, not a shred of concern anywhere in his voice.

"He left right after we finished last night," she answered, not sounding at all pleased.

"Aw, that's too bad," Riku snorted.  Just as he thought.  The fact that his mother had an adult son was probably the reason the guy had been scared off.

"It's your fault he left!" his mother accused.

"I'm sure it was," Riku replied.  "Not like I care.  It really gives me the chills that you want to mess around with guys barely older than your own son.  Besides, I highly doubt either of you cared for each other aside from the fact that both of you were eager to jump between the sheets for a quick fuck."  He opened the cupboard and pulled out a box of hot cereal mix.

"_Don't you dare talk to me like that, you little bastard!_" his mother shrieked, jumping up and rounding on him.  She saw the box in his hand.  "What the hell are you doing?!  Why the hell are you still here?!  If you hate living with me so much, why don't you just go?!  You're eighteen years old, for Hell's sake!  Why don't you get out and stop wasting my space and my food?!"

Riku dropped the box on the counter rather harshly and got a bowl out.  "I don't think you should care about that.  You should worry more about if I _did_ leave.  Every since I got my first job when I was sixteen, I've been paying you a part of each paycheck as 'rent'.  I know you and your spending habits, Mom.  You wouldn't want to lose that extra money each month that you get from me."

His mother had no reply to that, but she did have a look on her face that could sour cheese as he spoke.

"You know," he continued, finding a measuring spoon for the cereal mix, "I know you have an okay day job, but I somehow believe that the household finances are better than they should be, even with what I'm pitching in."  He eyed her.  "What, are you working the street corners when you get the chance?"

The slap that landed on his right cheek was so hard, it spun him halfway around and made his teeth clack down on his tongue, causing it to bleed a little.

"_You worthless little shit!_" his mother screeched.  "_How DARE you talk to me like that?!  I'm your mother!  I raised your sorry little ass instead of throwing you in the gutter where you belong!_"

"You raised me?" Riku asked, infuriatingly calm as he gingerly touched his smarting cheek.  "You didn't raise me, bitch.  You couldn't care less about me.  I was left to wander the streets and tag along with the other kids in town, spending more time with friends than I ever did at home.  It's no wonder I spent a huge chunk of my childhood on the Party Island.  Some mother you are."  He finished through his teeth, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, so you'd rather I had just abandoned you like that no-good father of yours?!" she shot back.  "He left the _second_ he found out about you!  At least I had the decency to keep you, and you haven't shown me a _shred_ of thankfulness!"

"Like you cared about my father, anyway!" Riku shouted, losing his cool.  "He was just another roll in the hay to you, wasn't he?!  Did he even _know_ about me?!  Are you even sure _which_ guy fathered me?!  And, how dare you call keeping me _decency_?!  You kept me just for the tax break, you whore!"

"Shut your mouth!" she hissed.  "I demand _respect_, damn it!"

"Respect?!" Riku choked out, hardly believing.  "How can I respect a woman who's so sluttish, she didn't even care about having sex with some guy off the street while her kid, barely even school-aged, could hear every moan and scream in his bedroom on the other side of the wall?!  I cannot even _count_ how many times I've heard you in some clinch or another!  I did _not_ want to hear that!  I did _not_ want to hear you loudly fucking every man you came in contact with!  You are _sick_!  I can't _believe_ you!  You exposed me to sex when I could hardly even grasp the concept!  If I had been the same room with you, it would have made no difference, would it?!"

"I'm a grown woman!" his mother shouted back.  "I have my needs!  One thing I _don't_ need is a smart-ass kid who's too much of a pansy to think his mother wants an active sex life!"

"You sure as hell needed me," Riku said, his voice low.  "I'm your punishment for sleeping around.  You didn't even have the sense to use birth control as you were man-hopping, and you got pregnant with me.  It's _your fault_ I'm around, not mine.  But, you still didn't learn, did you?  You got your tubes tied the day I was born, didn't you?  You just couldn't go without constant sex, could you?  Not even having a tiny child in the house kept you from bringing men home every other day!  You're nothing but a street hooker, is what you are!"

"Don't talk to me about sex!" she glowered.  "How many slut girlfriends have _you_ had?!  How many times have you eaten out that little redhead bitch you always hang around with, huh?!"

Riku totally forgot about the cereal mix on the counter, and his face twisted horribly in rage.  How _dare_ she speak about Kairi like that?!

"You take that back," he said, his voice oddly tranquil.  He grabbed her collar from across the countertop and yanked her toward him, making her hit the counter edge.  "YOU TAKE THAT _BACK_!!!!!"

A shattering sound filled his ears, and he was thrown to one side by a sharp blow to the side of his head.  He staggered and fell, letting go of her, and it wasn't until a minute later that he realized she had grabbed a flowerpot off the end of the counter and smashed it against his head.  Potting soil and flowers were strewn everywhere, mostly on him, and he felt water and blood dripping down from his drenched hair.

"GET OUT!" she screamed, making his ears ring.  "GET OUT!  _GET OUT OF MY HOUSE_!"  When he had grabbed her, the fear instinct had kicked in, and it had mixed with her rage and hate directed at her son, making her momentarily crazy.  He saw a cast-iron frying pan in her hand, and she was just about to swing it down at his head…

He dodged instinctively, but wasn't quick enough to avoid the pan.  It hit him hard on the shoulder, and he felt his bones creak against the strain.  He was lucky they hadn't broken.  Pain-wracked, he stumbled to his feet and ran for the door.  To hell with this.  If his mother wanted to kill him, there was no reason to come back here at all anymore.

His mother was still shrieking at him to get out, and she no doubt still had the pan in her hands, so he threw open the door and ran out, not even sparing a glance back.  The problem was, there was a person on the other side of the door, and Riku ran right into her, knocking them both down in a heap on the wooden planks of the walkway.  He heard the door slam before he even opened his tightly shut eyes.

"Riku!" a familiar voice gasped, and his blood ran cold.  Looking up, his fears were confirmed when he met astonished blue eyes.  It was Sora.  His heart totally froze when he looked down and realized it had been Kairi who he had inadvertently tackled.  He quickly stood up.

"Riku, what in the world is going on?" Kairi asked as she sat up, dismayed.

A dozen thoughts ran through Riku's head, the most prominent of which were to lie or run away.  After a long moment of indecision as his two friends stared at him in shocked disbelief, he set his jaw, wiped blood away from his lip, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Come on, there's something I should tell you."  He turned and walked toward the stargazing platform, not even looking back to see if they were following.

While up there, he told them everything in a carefully tailored monotone, hiding the depths of his intense emotions.  Everything was confessed.  There were his mother's whorish habits, the neglect, the lack of any love, his abandonment by his father, the screaming matches, the occasional beatings when his mother had "had enough", and his complete and utter loathing for the two people who had had the gall and poor judgment to bring him into the world.

Sora and Kairi listened in silence, completely horrified.

"Oh, Riku," Kairi murmured when he finished, no small amount of guilt in her voice.  "We never knew…"

"I know," Riku replied.  "You didn't know because I didn't _want_ you to know.  You have no idea how ashamed I am of my parents."  His eyes glittered noticeably more than normal, and it was obvious he was forcing tears back.  However, he blinked rapidly and refused to let them fall.

"But, why _do_ you stay there?" Sora asked after a moment of silence.  "You're eighteen, and you have a steady job.  Why don't you find a place of your own?  It would do wonders for your peace of mind."

Riku sighed.  "I had a reason.  My reason was that I'm paid minimum wage, and the only available housing in Fate that I can afford is in the slummy districts.  All the better housing in my price range has naturally be snatched up first.  I thought I'd rather stay here and just avoid my mother instead of living in the ghetto.  Now, I'm not so sure."

"I have an idea," Sora said.  "You could stay with me.  I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind, and they probably wouldn't want any more for rent out of you than you give your mother, and you'd be in much better surroundings.  I'm sure you'd be much happier there than with your mother.  I'll hopefully be working soon myself, and once I turn eighteen, the two of us can get a place together.  Maybe Kairi can live with us, too!"

Riku sat down, thinking it over.  Sora had mentioned a few times before that he'd really like for the three of them to live together as roommates once they were all adults.  It really did sound like a wonderful idea, especially now.

"All right, Sora," Riku nodded, his spirits lifting already.  "That sounds great."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning…

The three friends had ended up staying the night on the Party Island, along with Selphie, Tidus, Wakka, and several other friends.  They hadn't yet talked to Sora's parents about Riku moving in, and they were planning to do it this morning.  Kairi was sitting on the end of the dock, chatting with Selphie, while most of the others were either still sleeping or milling around different parts of the island, debating when to go back home for breakfast.

Riku was lolling about in a shady patch of grass, half-asleep. His tongue and shoulder were still sore from the morning before, but it wasn't too hard to ignore.

"Riku?" a voice said above him, making him open his eyes.  He blinked.  A police officer was standing over him.  He sat up and saw several of his friends looking curiously over from where they stood or sat.

"Uh…" Riku started, a little confused.

"You're Riku, right?" the officer asked.

Riku nodded.

"We need you to come and ID your mother," the officer said.

"What do you mean, 'ID my mother'?" Riku asked.

"I hate to say this," the officer explained, "but your mother's dead.  We found her body in a back alleyway near the city center.  Looks like she was out clubbing and just ran into the wrong person.  We're investigating to find out who killed her as I speak."

Riku was perfectly still for almost a minute.  He felt no sorrow, just…shock.  His mother had been screaming at him and attacking him with a frying pan just yesterday, and now she was dead?  Murdered?  That just felt…unreal.

He stood up.  "All right, officer," he said in a flat voice.  "I can come right now, if you want."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Well, I guess you don't need to come stay with me, after all," Sora said.  He, Riku, and Kairi were sitting on the couch in Riku's living room.  Since Riku was his mother's only child, and she had no will, her property reverted to him upon her death, which included the house.  Since his grandparents had paid it off when they had owned it, he didn't need to worry about rent or mortgage, though he was responsible for maintenance and bills.

Riku nodded silently.

"Are you okay, Riku?" Kairi asked.

"I'm fine," Riku replied, "just weirded out.  All my life, I've hated my mother, and now she's gone, just like that.  It's such a big change so suddenly.  I kinda feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.  I'm not happy my mother died, since I don't think anyone should be murdered, no matter how bad they are, but I can't exactly say I'm sorry she's dead, either."

Sora and Kairi nodded.

"You know, Sora, we can still live together," Riku said.  "When you two turn eighteen, you can move in here with me.  There's plenty of room for three people here."

"You mean it?" Sora asked.

"Of course," Riku answered.  "You know I don't lie."

"You're the best, Riku!" Kairi smiled.  "It'll be great, the three of us living together!"

Riku felt a smile tug at his lips.  "I'm sure it will be, Kairi," he said.  "I'm sure it will be."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  This chapter was very hard for me to write, due to its subject matter.  I'm sure it was shocking to plenty of you, maybe even hard to read, and I apologize.  I don't really have an explanation for why I gave Riku such a horrible mother, so don't ask.  Just accept it as part of my story.  No, Riku wasn't lying about not being sorry his mother died.  He was telling the truth, not covering up for some deep-down feelings he didn't know he had.  He really does feel indifferent that his mother's dead, even though she was murdered.  Maybe this makes Riku a bad person, but I'm not changing my story.  Many people, sadly, have little or no respect and/or love for one or both parents, maybe even hate them, as Riku does.  It's the unfortunate result of the upbringing he got as a child.  Anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	3. Revelation and Rejection

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies 

By Annie-chan

Chapter Three:  Revelation and Rejection 

High up a colossal limestone cliff, a door opened.  A man walked out onto the wide ledge that served as his veranda.  The wind lifted his fine hair, making it dance in the swift breeze, swirling about his head and shoulders.  For a visitor, it would likely seem bitingly chilly, but he was used to it.  He had been living here for a good deal of his long life, after all.

On the natural balcony, there were two small tables and a few chairs around them, as well as a daybed and a bench nearer the edge.  The furniture was bolted down for when the wind became strong, as it often did at this elevation, but not by any physical means.  The magic that permeated everything in this enchanted world held them in place, moving only when someone wished to move them.  If the master of the house had wanted to, he could have had complete control over the environment in and around his dwelling, keeping it at a constant temperature, humidity, and wind speed.  He held the common belief, though, that life was better and more fun if one did not have control over everything, so he did not regulate the local climate.

There was no fence around the edge of the balcony, though they were at a vertigo-inducing height.  Even if one did fall, there was very little chance of him or her dying, unless they were unconscious.  The power of flight took care of that problem.

The man sat down on one of the chairs and looked out over the city.  Countless millennia ago, the area had been a flat plain with a large, swift river running through it.  Now, the river had carved out a canyon that averaged nine hundred feet wide and twenty-three hundred feet deep.  At the top, the river looked like one of the thin blue lines used to designate rivers on maps.  The visible parts of the "buildings" of the city were on ledges and in openings in the canyon walls, and their main bulk receded back into the cliffs as caverns and tunnels carved out of the living rock.  Some legends said that they were a spectacularly complex display of nature's wonders, while other legends said that they were the work of early rock-shapers making homes in a previously uninhabitable place, and still others claimed that they were dug out by some prehistoric, forgotten species of animal that no longer walked the planet.  Whatever the cause, the underground structures had been there for so long that their origins were beyond the memory of even the ancient, long-lived people that had ruled the One World for several ages.

The buildings' appearance from afar like giant eagles' nests gave the city its name:  Aerie.

As the man surveyed the city, the mystery of its origins was hardly on his mind.  He was waiting for a messenger from the Court of Reason, and had been waiting for a long time.  Over a week ago, he had gone to the Court and made his case, and they informed him they would make their decision in due time and let him know of the outcome.  "In due time" almost always seemed much longer than necessary.  Still, he was not one to urge haste on the judges that made up the Court.  They had more things to think about and discuss than his own problems, and demanding a quick decision could possibly cause them to refuse to even consider what he wanted judged.  Usually, it was not required to follow their advice, as one of the most highly prized values in the One World was free will, but what the man wanted was normally against about a dozen laws, and a request for an exception had to go through the Court of Reason.

Oh, how he hoped they would decide in his favor…

"Father?"

The man looked around to see his second child and only daughter.  She stood a little ways out the front door, her hair and skirts flowing gracefully to one side in the wind.

"Yes?" the man replied.

"Are you okay?" his daughter asked.  "You look awfully anxious."

"I'm fine," he answered.  "I'm just getting a little impatient to receive the Court's reply."

"Well, come inside," his daughter said.  "I hear the wind is supposed to pick up soon."

The man hesitated a moment, then sighed.  "All right.  It won't come any faster with me waiting out here, anyway."  He stood up and followed his daughter into the house.

He had just poured a cup of something warm to drink and sat down at the dining table, and his daughter had gone further into the house, when a brief sound of paper sliding against stone perked up his ears.  He looked over to the door and saw an envelope with the Court of Reason's seal on it.  A messenger had slipped it under the door.

Like a child receiving a present, he jumped up from the table and snatched the envelope from the floor, breaking the seal and pulling the letter out.  He read it three times before the realization that his request had been granted finally set in.

"Thank the powers!" he gasped in relief, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"For what?" a voice said behind him.  His daughter and her brother had just emerged from the left hall.

"The Court has granted my request to let me bring Riku here to the One World," the man said.  "They said it was normally unheard of to bring someone from the Many Worlds here, but considering my connections to him, as well as the highly unusual circumstances, they have made an exception.  The only condition is that, soon after he's here, he must be brought before them for an assessment of whether or not he is qualified to join his peers in training."

"That's wonderful!" his daughter exclaimed.

"Have they _ever_ allowed outsiders to be brought here before?" his son asked.  "It's usually just us going there, not them coming here."

"It's only been allowed once before, and it was when I was very young," the man replied.

"Are you leaving right away?" his daughter asked.

"Not right away, but soon," the man said.  "I can't just pop in and ask Riku to come with me.  It isn't every day you're asked to leave your childhood home and come to a completely new place.  I'll have to think of the best way to break it to him, and then give him ample time to think about it.  Besides, I'm a complete stranger to him.  He's never seen me before."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Riku, are you _serious_?!" Kairi nearly screeched, totally taken off guard by what she had just heard.

"Yes, I'm serious!" Riku responded, hurt by her reaction.  She seemed shocked and…upset.  "Kairi, I love you!"

_Oh, thank God Sora isn't here_, Kairi thought, though she wasn't exactly sure why she felt that way.

"I know this is sudden," Riku continued, quieter than before, "but I'm telling the truth.  I've had feelings like this for you for years."

"H-how many years…?" she ventured, half not wanting to know the answer.

"I first realized it when I was fourteen," he replied.  "I kept my mouth shut about it up until now, because I was too shy and embarrassed to admit it, regardless of my lack of shyness otherwise.  I just…I couldn't hide it anymore.  That's why I'm telling you now."

"Oh, Riku," she managed, "I don't know what to say…"

"Then, think about it," he said.  "Think about it, then come tell me when you've decided."

Before she could make a real response, Kairi gave a rapid nod and sped off, her mind whirling.  This was all so sudden!  She didn't know what to _think_!

She ran down the sandy beach of the Party Island, not sure where she was going, until she reached the small shack that led to the bridge that led to the roughly circular bit of land rising out of the water about twenty feet from shore.  The entrance to the secret place was near here, and it was the best place to go if she wanted to be alone.  Without another thought, she jumped up the small tiers of ground leading up to it, and crawled through the small opening to the tunnel.

As she walked slowly along the dimly lit corridor in the rock, Riku's _I love you!_ kept echoing through her head.  He had just blurted it out after she had asked why he seemed so preoccupied.  She could recall very few shocks that had surprised her quite like this had.

She leaned against the permanently closed door and slid down to the dirt, sitting.  Riku loved her, that much was obvious, but what did she feel for Riku?  And, what about Sora?  What did she feel for Sora?  Even less certain, what did Sora feel for her?  Would it be possible for she and Riku to remain friends if she didn't return his feelings for him?  What if she and Sora paired up?  Would that be too much for Riku to tolerate?  Would they remain friends then?  Would Sora and Riku keep on their friendly rivalry, or would it turn into something much more serious?

These and so many other questions swirled around in her head for a long time.  It was all questions and no answers.  She felt just about ready to scream when her eyes landed on one of the many scribblings on the stones that made up the walls.  It was at least ten years old, and it had faded, but it was still easily seeable.  It was the crude representations of each other's heads in profile that she and Sora had scratched into the wall with sharp rocks.  Clearer and more recent were the star shapes of paopu fruit.  The picture showed her and Sora sharing the rare fruit, causing their destinies to be forever linked.

All other questions were still unanswered, but she knew for certain the answer to the questions of her feelings for Riku and Sora.  Riku was a dear friend of hers, but Sora was something special to her.  If she had to pick from the two of them, it would definitely be Sora.

She stood.  It would be cruel to keep Riku wondering, so she had to tell him now.  As hurt as he would be, and as much as she didn't want to give him her decision, it was better now than later.  She exited the secret place a few minutes later, anxious but resolved.

Kairi found Riku on the tiny circular islet, sitting on the edge next to the ladder, staring out at the flat horizon.

"Um, Riku?" she said.

"Yes?" he replied, his voice soft.

"I've thought about what you said, and…um…well…you see, it's like this…"  After several false starts, she finally took a deep breath and said it all very quickly.  "I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same!"

Riku was completely motionless and silent.

"You see, I—" Kairi started to continue, but stopped.  She was about to say what she felt for Sora, but couldn't.  She hadn't even told Sora about her feelings, and Riku's utter silence unnerved her.  "I-I'm sorry!" she sniffed, her eyes stinging, and ran off again, leaving Riku alone.

Back in the secret place, she cried for a long time, trying her hardest not to make too much noise.  She didn't want to alert anyone that may be passing by the entrance to the secret place.  Especially Sora.  Oh, God, _please_ not Sora!

It wasn't fair!  They were all supposed to be best friends!  Yes, Sora and Riku often seemed more like competitors than actual friends, but they all cared very much about each other!  For all she knew, this was the end of their friendship as they knew it!

After finally being able to calm down, a sudden realization caused her to start crying again, perhaps even harder than before.  Riku had said that he had realized his feelings for her at fourteen, and he had been fifteen when all the trouble with the Heartless had started.  Sora and Riku had told her everything that had happened to them, and Riku's turning to darkness had been much more about helping her and getting her heart back than it had been revenge against Sora "abandoning" him.  He had allied himself with the Heartless, risked his own heart and soul, even let Ansem possess him, all for the possibility that it may retrieve her heart from wherever it had gone.  It had all been for her!

It seemed like hours before she finally crawled through the entrance again, her face dry but red, her eyes bleary from crying.  All she wanted to do right now was go home and take a nap, but who should she run into, but Sora.

"There you are, Kairi!" he said, walking over to her.  "Hey, you all right?  You look like you've been crying."

"I didn't sleep well last night," Kairi lied, not wanting Sora to know anything about what had recently transpired.

Sora looked at her for a second, as if he didn't believe her, but he didn't question her anymore.  Instead, he said, "You wanna go to the cove?  It's shadier over there on that side of the island."

Kairi slowly nodded.  She always relaxed there better than elsewhere on the Party Island.  Perhaps she could even take that nap she wanted by curling up in a grassy patch and drifting off.  She was silent as she walked there, yet smiled a thanks when Sora held the door through the rock wall open for her.

She looked around, and noted that she couldn't see anyone else there.  Looks like they were the only ones there—

A sudden flash of blinding white light filled her vision, making her squeak in surprise and cover her eyes.  Afterimage spots burned on her retinas, and a brief, scary suspicion that she may have lost her sight had pushed all other thoughts out of her head when she heard Sora gasp in shock beside her.  She lowered her hands, lifted her head, and blinked the afterimage away, allowing her to see again.

"Kairi, come on!" Sora exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and tugging her along.  "I've seen that before!  I know who's here!"  Kairi didn't resist, and they jumped across the rickety wooden platforms to the other side of the shallow water.  Just as they turned the corner, bringing the patch of palm trees into view, she saw someone she had definitely never seen before in her life.

A man stood about twenty feet away from them, half turned away, and he was looking around as if he was unfamiliar with the area.  He was dressed predominantly in black, red embellishments wandering this way and that over the leathery material.  His skin was pale, as pale as Riku's, and very soft looking silver hair cascaded in a smooth waterfall down his back, reaching almost down to the ground.  Even stranger than that was the seven-foot sword he had strapped to his back.  That had to be extremely difficult to use.  It was even longer than this man was tall!  Most unusual of all, however, was the single wing that was folded against the right side of his back.  The feathers were pitch-black along the top edge, and they gradually lightened until they shown a brilliant royal blue along the tip.

"Sephiroth!" Sora finally managed to say.

"You know this man?" Kairi asked.  She looked back at the new arrival when Sora quickly nodded.

"Sora," the one called Sephiroth said, briefly lowering his head in a slight bow.  "It's been four years, hasn't it?  Four of your years, anyway."

Eerie green eyes held Kairi's attention, and she wasn't sure if Sora answered or not.  Sephiroth's stare was almost unbearably intense, and there was something about those vertical slits for pupils that gave her a very uneasy feeling.  They seemed to emanate countless years of experience, sorrow, joy, anger, fear, power, and skill.  This man was more than what he seemed.  And, now that he was facing them directly, she noticed just how much he resembled—

"Riku!" Sora said, looking behind him.  Riku had entered the cove unnoticed, drawn by an irresistible urge to come.  He was walking slowly toward them, his eyes fixed on Sephiroth.

Riku felt strange.  A million things inside him demanded that he recognize this man, yet he knew he had never seen him before in his life.  Sephiroth turned his gaze toward him, and as soon as their eyes met, he suddenly knew.  Oh, God, he just _knew_…

"Father…"

"WHAT?!" Sora cried, stunned.  "He's your—?!"

"Look at me, Sora," Sephiroth pointed out.  "Look how much we resemble each other.  I'm surprised you didn't suspect the first time you and I met."

"Yeah, but…" Sora began.

"You're not even human!" Riku burst out, pointing at Sephiroth's wing.  "You can't be my father!"

"Oh, can't I?" Sephiroth replied.  "Have you ever wondered _why_ you're so much faster, stronger, and more skilled in combat than all the other kids?  Have you ever wondered _why_ you have a glow shining from deep within your eyes?  Have you ever wondered _why_ you recover from sickness and injury so much quicker than everyone else?  I don't deny that I am not human, but neither are you entirely.  You're the first known half-breed between my and your mother's peoples.  It was previously thought that the two species were incompatible reproductively."

Riku stared at Sephiroth in disbelief, then dropped his head enough to make his hair fall over his eyes, hiding his green irises.  "Sora, Kairi," he said, "please leave."

Sora was about to protest, but Kairi gave him a look that told him to grant Riku's request.  Silently, they quickly slipped out of the cove.

"Just what are you?" Riku asked, slowly approaching his supposed father.  His eyes were still mostly veiled by his hair.

"My people call themselves 'ylfen'," Sephiroth replied.  "It means 'winged ones'."

"I see," Riku said.  He was now right in front of Sephiroth.  "You really are my father, aren't you?"

Sephiroth nodded.  "Yes, I am."

Barely a second later, Riku's rock-hard fist connected with his jaw, making him stumble back and fall down to the sand.  The impact had been so hard that one of Sephiroth's first thoughts was that he was lucky he hadn't lost teeth to it.

"You…you…YOU!" the suddenly furious nineteen-year-old spat, speechless in his rage.

Sephiroth pushed himself up in a sitting position, but almost fell back again when Riku came down upon him, gripping his shirt tightly.

"Why?!" Riku shrieked.  "_Why did you leave me with HER?!_"  He gave Sephiroth a hard shake.

"Take it easy, Riku," Sephiroth said.  His voice was calm, but apprehension could be heard behind the tone.  "I never wanted to leave you."

"_I don't care!_" Riku roared, giving him another shake.  "_WHY DID YOU DO IT?!_"

Sephiroth winced, his ears ringing.  "She was going to kill you, Riku!"

Riku froze.  "What?"

Sephiroth sighed.  "You were completely unplanned, I admit.  Yes, the brief affair between your mother and I was poorly thought out and very unwise.  You have no idea how _stupid_ I feel for letting myself get sucked into it, but at the time, I was desperate for companionship."

"Why?" Riku interrupted.  "How could you be _that_ desperate?"

"I'd rather not get into that," Sephiroth replied.  "I'll tell you sometime, but not now.  Anyway, I knew it would most likely be a short acquaintance, I had thought little of any consequences like a child.  Like I said before, the humans and the ylfen had been thought reproductively incompatible, and though I knew human women had a much higher fertility rate than ylfe women, but I didn't know just how _easy_ it was for a human woman to become pregnant.  The news that she was with child was the biggest shock of my life.  She found out I was not human and that you were on the way at about the same time.  She's a horrible xenophobe—"

"Yeah, don't I know…" Riku broke in.  He quieted down again when Sephiroth gave him a look.

"She's a horrible xenophobe," Sephiroth continued, "and the next time I saw her, she all but attacked me, screaming to keep away and never to touch her again.  I knew she didn't want a child, and I tried to reason with her to let me stick around at least until you were born.  I offered to take you away and relieve her of the burden of raising an unwanted baby.  She, however, came back at me with the threat to kill you if I ever came around again.  I finally did leave, and I had resolved never to let her see me again.  Leaving you to her mercies felt like ripping my own lungs out, but I was determined to wait her out.  I knew you would be an independent adult by now, and I could contact you without her knowing easier than if you were still in her care.  The fact that she's dead just makes this easier."

"She died just over a year ago!" Riku said.  "I've been an adult for longer than that, too!"

"I know," Sephiroth nodded, "but—"

"Why come back when I'm grown up, anyway?" Riku asked bitterly.  "I've lived _eighteen years_ of hell because you couldn't find some way to get me away from her!  I've _hated_ her all my life, and my feelings for _you_ are just as bad!  _I hate you!_  What makes you think coming back after nineteen years will fix anything?!"

"Riku, nineteen years is little more than an eye-blink for the ylfen!" Sephiroth exclaimed, frustration showing in his eyes.  "You have _centuries_ ahead of you!  You will heal!  After a time, your trials with her will feel like just a _speck_ against the rest of your experiences!  I could have waited _fifty_ years, and it would have made little to no difference!"

Riku blinked, stunned.  "Centuries?"

"Yes!  More like millennia!"

Riku was too shocked to speak for a moment.  "You…you're putting me on!"

"I am not!" Sephiroth sighed.  "How old do I look?"

Riku just took a guess.  "Um…thirty?"

"Think about that," Sephiroth said.  "That would have made me only eleven when you were born.  Now, look at my eyes.  Do they look like those of a thirty-year-old?"

"No," Riku admitted.  "They look much older."

"Right," Sephiroth nodded.  He leaned forward a little to emphasize his point.  "I am nearly seven thousand years old."

Riku's jaw dropped.  He couldn't believe it!

"If I had used my full power when fighting that friend of yours," Sephiroth explained, "there's no way he would have won.  He would have been a grease spot on the stadium floor."

Riku nodded slowly.

"There is a vast separation between your destiny and your friends'," the longhaired man continued.  "Theirs is to live a short while and die, hopefully making as much a difference in the world as they can.  Yours is to live on for many times their lifespan, and that alone will cause you to drift from them and become a total loner.  It's a terrible thing to happen, losing friends, and there's a solution for it."

"What is it?" Riku asked.

"Come with me," Sephiroth said.  "Come back with me.  Leave this dimension and live the rest of your life in your ancestral home."

"_Dimension_?!" Riku interrupted.

Sephiroth nodded.  "Yes, dimension.  You live on one of the Many Worlds, while I live on another plane called the One World."

"Oh…"  Riku didn't know what to say to that.

"I cannot tell you much, unless you agree to come," his father explained.  "Policy of the One World is to keep our existence mostly secret from the Many Worlds.  We'd rather exist to them just in legends and stories.  I can say that you are approaching the age where young ylfen begin training to hone their inborn powers.  You're showing enormous potential to be a warrior, and I can't imagine not letting you train along with your peers."

Riku stared at his father, his eyes showing mixed emotions.  Part of him was eager to follow Sephiroth and finally belong somewhere, but another part of him balked.  That part could not yet fathom living for thousands of years, and it was afraid.

"Either way you choose, you will still live for many, many human generations," Sephiroth said softly.  "If you go with me, you'll still have contact with the Many Worlds if you wish, but you'll live among people like you who will not die all too soon and leave you grieving and alone.  It will be much easier in the long run for you to come with me, but I will not force you."

Riku continued to stare at his father, utterly silent.

"Take your time to think about it," Sephiroth said.  "I know how hard it is to leave loved ones like Sora and Kairi."

Riku slowly stood, then turned around and bolted.  He yanked open the wooden door in the natural wall and fled through without bothering to slow down enough to close it.

Sephiroth watched him go, then sighed.  It may yet be a long and difficult road to redemption, and he just had to dig in and hold out as long as he could.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Man, that was a long dialogue sequence.  I've noticed that my chapters for this fic have been getting a little longer each time around.  I'll eventually go in the other direction, I imagine.  *looks at what she just typed*  Argh!  I have to stop obsessing over chapter length!  _;;  I always worry whether or not the chapters are all similar length, and I have to get it through my head that they don't have to be.  I've planned out what key events will happen when in the first eight or nine chapters of "Separate Destinies" (I've explained the title, now, I hope you've noticed), and some are bound to be longer or shorter than others.  I should forget about chapter length and just write my chapters.  *crosses fingers and hopes she does*  Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter!  I know Sephiroth being Riku's father isn't an entirely new concept, meaning it may not have been much of a surprise to find out who "the man" is, as well as finding out his connection to Riku, but I hope you all liked how I wrote the "mystery".  This is my first time writing something of that nature.  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	4. A Need to Belong

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Four:  A Need to Belong 

"How could she not know you were not human?"

Sephiroth turned at the sound of his son's voice.  Since he had come to the Destiny Islands, he had been staying in the forest outside of Fate.  Now, he was sitting on a knoll that overlooked the beach, and Riku had approached him from behind.

"What do you mean?" Sephiroth asked.

"Your wing, what else?" Riku replied.  "How could my mother not know you were not human with that thing staring her in the face?"

"Ylfe wings are retractable," was Sephiroth's answer.

Riku blinked.  "Retractable wings?  Give me a break."

"I'm serious," Sephiroth insisted.  He turned around so he was facing Riku.  "See, the earliest ancestors of our race did not have wings, and their magical capacity was less than it is now.  As that capacity grew, their bodies were unable to properly house it, and many withered and died because their magic was basically stagnating inside of them for lack of proper 'space'.  So, the survivors were forced to add an extension to their bodies to contain their power and allow them to live their natural lifespan."

"But, why one wing?" Riku asked.  "Why not two, or some other bodily extension?  A single wing looks unbalanced, if nothing else."

Sephiroth shrugged.  "I have no idea, really.  I haven't found anything explaining that, and I've never cared to look.  Besides, our wings aren't actually used for flying.  Flight is achieved with a simple antigravity spell that doesn't just make us float, but gives us control over our midair motion as well.  Most children learn to fly long before your age."

"Hm," Riku replied, digesting this new information.  "But, why are the wings retractable?  If your explanation of their origins is true, wouldn't retracting them make you ill?"

"No," Sephiroth shook his head.  "Wings first appeared among ylfe over two thousand centuries ago.  Since then, our bodies have toughened, so to say, and our magic capacity has long since evened out.  I'm the strongest alive today, but the strongest on record died long before I was born, and the second strongest today isn't too far behind me.  If we wanted to, we could get rid of our wings entirely and have no ill effects.  The thing is, we've had wings for so long, that children are now born with them, and there's no downside to keeping them, so no one's done away with them.  They're a harmless natural ornamentation now, more than anything else.  There are two main kinds:  birdlike and batlike.  What kind you have is hereditary, so they're considered two separate races, or at least sub-races.  The two sub-races are rather unceremoniously called feathers and leathers."

Riku nodded slowly.  "I see.  And, on the rare occasion that an ylfe visits the Many Worlds, they retract their wing to appear human.  Is that it?"

"Yes," his father answered.  "Your mother discovered mine when I had come out of Fate and into the forest one day.  Since no one was around, I thought, I extended my wing to let it stretch some.  If you have your wing retracted for a long time, it feels good to extend it every once in a while.  It's like taking your shoes off after walking for a long way.  Anyway, your mother was looking for me to tell me that she was expecting, and she caught me unawares."

"Well, show me," Riku said.  "Retract your wing."

"I already have," Sephiroth said.

Riku blinked, surprised.  Sure enough, there was no wing folded against his father's back and shoulder, as there had been when he had first come up to him.  "Oh…" he said, thinking of nothing else to say.

"Aren't you supposed to be 'the observant one'?" his father chided.

"Shut up," Riku replied, a faint blush coloring his cheeks in embarrassment.  To get the focus off of himself, he posed another question.  "What about your eyes?  No human has eyes like that."

"I put an illusion spell on them to make the pupils appear round," Sephiroth shrugged.  "Most ylfen don't have to do that.  The majority of us have round pupils, just like humans, and the vertical slits that I have are a rare, harmless anomaly.  Some people consider it a mutation; others call it an extremely recessive genetic trait.  As for the glow…I guess each ylfe has their own excuse."

"So, why did you come here with no disguise this time?" Riku asked.  "Why not let only me know about this?  I thought ylfen were supposed to keep their existence mostly a secret."

Sephiroth shrugged again.  "I didn't feel like it this time.  I called the secrecy policy, and it is, but it's a pretty loosely enforced policy.  It's more important that we keep details of our world hidden than our actual existence.  Besides, there are plenty of 'legendary creatures' in the Many Worlds that are rarely spotted.  Some are real, and some are myth.  Ylfen are one of them."

"But, you just gave me details about ylfe wings and eyes, and you said details were to be kept secret," Riku pointed out, "and you're staying here for an extended period of time with no disguise.  It's been almost two weeks now, and I've heard the gossipers in Fate talking about people seeing a strange man living out here in the woods.  Sooner or later, everyone's going to know about you."

"I know," Sephiroth said.  "So, the gossipers have something to talk about.  That's no big deal.  Once something else comes up, I'll be forgotten like all the other gossip topics.  And, that stuff about ylfe wings and eyes can be added to what little legend is told of us in the Many Worlds.  I don't care."  He eyed Riku.  "Besides, if you don't tell anyone and you end up coming back with me, it's like I never told anyone, right?"

Riku hesitated, then nodded.  "Right."  He seemed to be thinking for several moments, then quickly stood, his curiosity satisfied.  "Thanks for the info," he said, and he turned and walked back toward the city before Sephiroth could even nod in reply.  He got halfway down the hill before he turned around and headed back up.

"Forget something?" Sephiroth asked.

"Yes," Riku replied.  "Why didn't you kill her?"

It was Sephiroth's turn to blink in silence.  "What do you mean?" he finally asked.

"Why didn't you kill my mother?" Riku repeated.  "If it stung you so much to leave me with her, and if you hated her as much as you've implied, why didn't you just kill her once I was born and take me back with you?  It's not like she would have been a big loss to the community, and I sure as hell wouldn't have cared."

Sephiroth sighed, looking away from his son.  "I've killed many in my life," he began.  "Most of the deaths on my hands are wild beasts or the half-intelligent savages that roam the wilds around the ylfe civilizations, but I have killed some ylfen and humans as well.  Most of those deaths were in some kind of altercation or another."  He turned to look at his son again.  "Death is a much more foreign concept to ylfen than it is to humans.  I don't like death and killing any more than the rest of my kind.  Because we are so long-lived, the concept of death unsettles us more than it does humans."  He sighed and looked away again.  "On the other hand, also because we are so long-lived, death can be a boon to us as much as it can be a bane."

Riku watched his father in silence, puzzling over these last few words.  Since Sephiroth didn't say or do anything more, he soon turned and went back down the hill, thinking.  Over the past two weeks, he had been even more pensive and detached than normal.  As far as he knew, the only people in his circle of friends who knew for sure of Sephiroth's existence were Sora and Kairi, but he didn't tell even them about the proposition Sephiroth had handed him.  Ever since receiving it, he had been constantly arguing with himself over what he should do.  Having to explain it to others would just be a pain in the ass.

Almost an hour later, Riku was back home.

_Which way do I go?_ he asked himself for the thousandth time.  The offer to go live with the people he really belonged with was very tempting, but he instinctively shied away from leaving the group of people he had come to hold most dear, especially Sora and Kairi.  He sighed as he went into the kitchen.  May as well make something to eat and try to get his mind off of it for a while.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day…

Riku was in a very bad mood.  He wasn't angry, but he was depressed.  He was having one of those occasional days where all he could focus on was what had gone wrong in his life.  There was his uncaring mother, his long-absent father, his neglected childhood, his reputation as the "inside outcast" of the group (even Riku had trouble deciphering that one sometimes), his willingness to follow Maleficent into the darkness, his possession by Ansem, his unreturned feelings for Kairi…

_Better stop_, he told himself, rubbing one of his temples.  _If I keep naming off everything, I'll just get even more depressed._  He had avoided everyone he knew so he wouldn't be asked what was wrong.  He had the day off from work, so he hadn't seen his coworkers, either.  Most of the day had been brooding and wandering aimlessly around Fate.  He had somehow found himself on the Party Island, which wasn't the best place to be if he wanted to be left alone.  Still, the sound of the waves lapping over the sand was relaxing.  Perhaps he could do away with his bout of depression here.

There were two particular spots he liked to be.  There was the bent paopu tree on the circular islet offshore, which was the perfect place to sit and look out over the water.  There was also the secret place, which was secluded and sheltered, making it the best spot to think without the risk of someone coming by.  He wondered if anyone besides himself, Sora, and Kairi used it as a place to hide out.  Wakka and Tidus had thoroughly explored the place, but Riku never knew of them going back in there.

Why it was called "the secret place" when everyone knew of its existence was beyond him.

As he crawled through the entrance, he remembered the first time he had come here.  It had been just him and Sora, and they had been about five and six years old.  Sora had been convinced that there was a monster living back here, since he could hear its "growling".

For several minuets, Riku leaned against the stone wall just inside the entrance, listening to the "growling".  It was the sound of the ocean reverberating off the cavern walls, deepened in pitch by the repeated echoes and the rock insulation.  But, to a young child who didn't know any better, it did sound a lot like the warning growls of a large animal protecting its den.

His sharp ears twitched, and he realized he wasn't just hearing the ocean.  Voices trickled down the narrow tunnel, as well.  He knew better than to be rude and spy, but something compelled him to quietly go in further.  Before long, he recognized the voices.  Sora and Kairi.  Before the last bend in the tunnel, he stopped to listen, barely peeking around into the chamber.

"Hey, look what I have, Kairi," Sora was saying, fishing around in a small satchel he had.  He pulled out a yellow, star-shaped object.

"A paopu fruit?" Kairi asked.

Sora nodded.

"You want to share it with me?"  Kairi looked surprised.

"Of course," Sora replied.  "Don't tell me you're surprised about this.  I mean, look at that scratching on the wall over there."  He indicated the rough etching of them sharing the star fruit.

"Well, yes," Kairi said.  "I just didn't want to assume. I mean…you know…"

"Yeah, you're nervous about all this, aren't you?" Sora asked.  "So am I.  I've been wanting to finally do this for _months_, but I just now worked up the courage."

"Really?" Kairi asked.

Sora nodded.  "Yes.  I…um…I love you, Kairi."

Kairi's eyes sparkled bright blue.  "I love you, too, Sora!"

Inwardly, Riku winced painfully, and he had to turn away.  He knew Kairi didn't return his feelings, but to hear her say that she loved another was still a knife in his heart.  _Leave_, his conscience told him.  _This is a private moment between them, and you don't want to see this.  It hurts you too much.  Go away!_  However, something in him commanded that he keep watching, and he turned back.

The paopu lay split on the rock floor.  They had already fed each other some of the fruit.  The mini-ceremony was over.  Now, Sora was just leaning in to kiss her…

_NO!_ he shrieked inwardly.  _Oh, why did you look back?!  WHY did you look back?!_  Without another thought, he turned and fled back down the tunnel.

His thoughts were racing.  _Stop it_, his more rational side admonished him.  _Stop being so childish!  You KNOW she doesn't love you, so having a fit that she loves Sora instead won't do any good!_

His emotions, however, refused to listen.  His chest was painfully tight, and it was as if someone had clamped a vise around his heart and lungs and was squeezing the life out of him.  He couldn't breathe right, and he was breathless before even half a minute went by.

_Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts!_ his body kept crying out, shuddering under the onslaught of his soul's intense feelings.

He had run across the bridge to the circular islet, and was just about to jump off into the water in an attempt to bring himself back under control, when a voice spoke up behind him.

"Someone doesn't return your feelings, do they?" the voiced asked.  Riku turned around and beheld his father looking at him with oddly sober eyes.

"H-how do you know?" Riku asked, his voice thin.

"I've seen it happen enough times before to recognize it," Sephiroth stated, his voice expressionless.  "I've experienced it myself, as well."

Riku's eyes met Sephiroth's.  Just as he _knew_ Sephiroth was his father by looking into the glittering green irises, he _knew_ that the older man was speaking the truth.  There was so much sorrow buried deep inside those dark depths…

"Don't hold back, Riku", his father said softly.  "Ylfen emotions are so much more potent than human emotions.  Don't do yourself harm by holding them back."

Finally, the floodgates opened at the sound of his father's gentle voice, and Riku felt the unfamiliar sensation of tears on his cheeks.  For most of his life, he had held the intensity of his emotions back and refused to cry, afraid of repercussions from his unsympathetic mother.  It had become second nature to hold his reactions in check.  Now, nearly fifteen years of frustration, anger, sorrow, and helplessness was rushing up at him, and he had no way to stop it all.  Within seconds, he was on his knees, bent double with his forehead almost on the ground, sobbing like a lost child.

Strong arms took a firm hold of him and pulled him up against a warm, sturdy body.  His father was holding him as he cried.  It felt so good to let his emotions free like this, so good to have a parent that showed him compassion and caring, that he clutched desperately at his father, crying raggedly against his shoulder.  Nothing else mattered at the moment, his whole world shrinking down to include only them.

Later, seemingly hours later, he was able to stop crying.  His eyes and cheeks were red, but he felt so amazingly relieved that he almost had to lie down to keep from getting dizzy.  He had let out so many pent up emotions, the relieved feeling was almost physical, as if his insides could now work better and more smoothly.  He had had no idea just how many feelings had been festering inside of him, and it was good to finally release them.

"Are you all right now?" Sephiroth asked, brushing hair out of Riku's face.

"Yes," Riku replied softly, his voice raspy.

"Good," Sephiroth said.  "It feels good to let everything out, doesn't it?"

Riku nodded, then looked up at the sky.  The sun had been setting as he had run out of the secret place, and it was now nighttime.  The crescent moon shone down from high in the sky, thousands of stars twinkling in the blackness of space.  Unless some people were spending the night, he and Sephiroth were probably the only people left on the Party Island.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Sephiroth whispered.  "Each one a different world."

Riku nodded again, then looked at Sephiroth.  "Do you have stars in the night sky on the One World?"

Sephiroth shook his head.  "No.  As far as we know, there is no other world in that plane, which is why we call it the One World.  We do have ten moons, though.  Any number of them may be visible on any given night, in varying states of fullness."

"_Ten_ moons?!" Riku exclaimed, shocked.  "That must be hell on the tidal forces!"

"Which is why no ylfe settlement is within a few miles of the ocean," his father chuckled, amused at his outburst.  "We'd rather not have our homes washed away by a flash flood."

"You know, you're giving me an awful lot of details about the One World after telling me you have a secrecy policy," Riku pointed out.  "All I have to do is ask."

Sephiroth sighed and shook his hair out of his eyes.  "I know, I know.  I thought I explained that already."

"I think you're just making excuses," Riku chided.

"Hush, you," Sephiroth replied in mock offense.

They talked long into the night, their conversation wandering from subject to subject, and Riku found himself growing more and more relaxed with his father.  His lifelong yearning for a loving family and a place to truly belong was becoming stronger and stronger, till it fairly throbbed in his chest, mimicking his heartbeat.

"Father, I…" Riku began, "I'll go back with you."

Sephiroth was silent for a moment, then nodded.  "As you wish.  You may take your time preparing and saying goodbye to your friends.  I can wait."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two days later…

"A-are you really leaving?"

Riku nodded in reply to Sora's question.  "We may not see each other for a long time.  I'll still have contact with the Destiny Islands, but I don't know how frequent that contact will be."

"But, Riku, you can't!" Kairi exclaimed.  "We've been friends for so long!  You can't just leave so suddenly like this!"

"I've found where I belong, Kairi," Riku said softly.  "Staying here would kill me.  My body may live, but my spirit will stifle and die."

"But…but…" Kairi stammered, on the verge of tears.

"You two move into my house, if you want," Riku said, and tossed something for Sora to catch.  "There are the keys.  Another set is in one of the kitchen drawers, and the deed is on the table.  Just sign it to make the transfer of ownership official.  I've taken care of everything else."

"Riku…why?" Sora asked, unsure of what to say.  "What about all your belongings?"

"Everything I'm taking with me is in this," Riku said, indicating the duffel sitting at his feet.  "Everything else, you can do what you want with.  Sell it, for all I care, and replace it with stuff more to your taste."

"Riku, you can't go!" Kairi cried again, her tears spilling over.  She closed the gap between them and threw her arms around him.  "It's too sudden!  It's not fair!"

"I'm sorry, Kairi," Riku apologized.  "I wish I could stay, too, but I need to be where I belong.  I don't want to leave you, but it's for the best.  We'll see each other again sometime."

Sniffling, Kairi finally nodded.  "I'll miss you, Riku."

"We both will," Sora added, putting one hand on Kairi's shoulder and the other on Riku's.  He was misty-eyed as well, but he was resolved to accept the situation.  "You do what you have to do, Riku.  Just always remember us, okay?"

"There's no need to ask, Sora," Riku replied.

"Good," Sora nodded, then his voice dropped to the soft, thin whisper people used when trying to keep from crying.  "You're my best friend, Riku."

"You're mine, too," Riku whispered back, his own throat tight.  He chuckled when Sora put one arm around him and the other around Kairi, turning it into a three-way hug.

They stayed like that for several minutes.

"I should go now," Riku murmured softly, pulling away from the two.  He turned to Sora and looked him straight in the eyes, echoing his own words from when Kingdom Hearts was sealed.  "Take care of her."

Sora set his jaw and nodded, much like he had as the white doors had shut, cutting Riku off from view.

"Goodbye," Riku said simply, then picked up the duffel from the ground, turned, and went back to where his father was waiting.  Sephiroth had stood apart from the three, allowing them some privacy as they said their goodbyes.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Sephiroth asked him.

"Yes," Riku answered.  "Now, get us out of here before I chicken out and change my mind."

Sephiroth chuckled, and Riku was suddenly awash with light.  It didn't just surround him, but it penetrated to his very core, warmth permeating every bit of him.  He suddenly remembered how he and Sora had gotten back to the Destiny Islands from Disney Castle.  This was exactly the same feeling.

"It was you!" Riku yelped as he realized it had been Sephiroth's voice he had heard.  "It was you talking in my head!"

"Glad you finally remembered," Sephiroth grinned.

The light brightened to the point of washing everything else out of sight, and Riku felt like he was weightless.  No sooner had he recognized the sensation, he found himself sprawled ungracefully on a smooth, hard surface.

"Looks like you have to work on your entrances, Riku," Sephiroth said, and Riku could just hear the amused smile in his voice.

Standing up, Riku found himself looking out over a titanic limestone canyon.  The wind was swift and sharp up here, but a feeling of sudden belonging filled his heart so fully that all other sensations were virtually blocked out.

"Welcome home, Riku," he heard his father say.  "Welcome home."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  This chapter is more than half a week later than I planned it to be.  Grr.  Oh, well.  Better late than never, huh?  *pauses*  Seems my sister finds the sound of me typing annoying.  Well, that's just too bad for her.  You don't expect me to keep you guys waiting any longer, do you?  Now, I really hope I didn't make the goodbye scene between the three friends too sappy.  I mean, it's a very emotional moment for the three of them, but I hope I didn't make it cookie-cutter soap opera material.  I'd hate that.  Oh, and as for Sephiroth's attitude about death and killing, I don't think that's out of character.  Yeah, he's a homicidal maniac in FFVII, but the FF characters in KH seem to have little to do with their counterparts in the FF series.  The fact that Squall, Aerith, and Yuffie are all from Hollow Bastion is a good example.  Besides, if you want to get picky, you can say Sephiroth has the same mindset as he did before he went mad in FFVII.  Before being driven insane, he was a deadly warrior, but he also seemed like a decent guy, if a little aloof.  He probably didn't _like_ to kill, yet he did so when he had to.  Anyway, let me know what you think of this in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!  The next chapter may be pretty long.  Or, it may not.  We'll just see.  It depends on the amount of detail I go into.  In case it turns out to be long, I hope to start it within the next couple of days, so I don't keep you guys waiting too long for it.  Keep your fingers crossed.


	5. A Whole New World

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Five:  A Whole New World 

"Well, what do you think?" Sephiroth asked.  Riku had been very quiet since they had arrived in the One World.

"It's…overwhelming," Riku replied.  "A couple weeks ago, I didn't even have a father.  Now, I have a whole new world."

His father chuckled.  "I'm sure it is.  Oh, I never told you that you have siblings, did I?"

"I do?" Riku asked.

"Yes," Sephiroth nodded.  "A brother and a sister, Darius and Samara.  Darius is older."

"What about us?" a voice said, making them look over at the front door.  Two people had just entered, a man and a woman.  They looked strikingly like Sephiroth in form, yet their hair was blond and their eyes bluish-green.  The man's wing was just like Sephiroth's, and the woman's was medium blue all over.

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed.  "Is this Riku?"

"Yes, this is Riku," Sephiroth replied.  "Riku, meet your brother and sister, Darius and Samara."

Riku stood, and was just about to say a greeting when Samara came forward and clasped his hand in a welcome gesture, her face bright and smiling.

"It's so great to finally meet you, Riku!" she beamed.  "Welcome to our home!  Oh, you look _exactly_ like Father!  I knew you looked like him, but I didn't think so closely!  If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

"O-okay," Riku replied, a little taken aback.  First, it was strange to think of the existence of siblings, as he had been an only child for most of his life; second, Samara had a very forward and bubbly attitude, similar to Kairi, actually.

"Hmm…" Darius muttered, taking hold of Riku's chin and looking him over.  His eyes were not cold or unfeeling, but he was obviously much calmer a character than his sister.  "She's right.  You're a carbon copy."  Darius apparently took after his father in behavior and temperament.

"Well, you three get to know each other," Sephiroth said.  "I should go to the Court of Reason to announce that you're here and see if they have time to see you today, Riku."

"See me?" Riku asked.  "Why?"

"I told you that they wanted to see you to determine if you had what it takes to live among us, didn't I?" Sephiroth asked.

"Oh," Riku responded, "yeah."

"I'll be back soon," Sephiroth said, going for the door.  "Darius, Samara, don't give him too much trouble, okay?"

He was gone.

"Well, sit down," Samara said, indicating the chair Riku had been in a moment before.  "I'm sure you have questions."

Riku sat down.  She was right.  He had always been curious, and his curiosity was burning very brightly right now.

"I wonder if you have a wing," Samara said before he could say anything.

"A wing?" Riku asked, surprised.  "I don't."

"You may," Darius countered.  "Has Father explained to you about ylfe wings?"

Riku nodded.

"Then, you know that they were not present in the earliest generations of ylfen," Darius explained.  "Wings have been present so long that babies are now born with them, but because of your human blood, you were not.  Father will probably have to probe your inner power to see, but you may have one 'inside' of you, waiting to be extended.  I suppose that there's a fifty-fifty chance that you have one.  It could look like anything, really.  Our family is Heinz-57 when it comes to wings.  Our family tree has both feathers and leathers, as well as a rainbow of different color combinations."

Riku nodded.  "Inner power…" he muttered.  "When I was fifteen, Maleficent said something about untapped power within me, and she encouraged me to seek it out and use it for the purposes she wished me to pursue.  Then, Ansem said much the same thing to me, but he offered to unseal it and give me better access to it.  Before I knew what he really wanted, he possessed my body and cut off all control I had over it, as well as any inner power I may have."

"They were right in saying you had inner power," Samara said, "but I don't think they knew what kind.  They were both very powerful beings, Maleficent a dark fairy and Ansem a human unusually strong in magic, so they could sense that you held hidden strength, but because they were not ylfen, they probably didn't recognize it's nature or even sense its true depth.  It is not sealed, but undeveloped.  You're not denied access to it; you just don't know how to use it yet.  The majority of ylfe children are like that.  We all go through a training period when we're very young, then we learn and grow in our power as we live and gain experience."

"When do you enter training?" Riku asked.  "Come to think of it, how old am I in this world?"

"Well, let's see," Darius said.  "We'll have to figure this out from scratch.  Samara, can you get me a pen and paper?"

Samara did as she was asked.

"Thanks," her brother said.  "Oh, there're a couple things you should probably know about this world's time measurements right off, Riku.  First of all, everything is in derivatives of five and ten, kinda like the metric system you're probably familiar with.  There are fifty seconds in each minute—I'll just use the terms you're used to for now, and you can learn ours later—fifty minutes in each hour, and twenty hours in each day.  Oh, by the way, our days are as long as three days in your world."

"_Three_ days?!" Riku exclaimed, then stopped to think.  It did make sense.  No wonder he seemed to need so much less sleep than the other kids.

"Yes, three days," Darius responded.  "There are ten days in each week, five weeks in each month, and ten months in each year.  Now, let me figure this out here.  You're nineteen, right?  How many days past your birthday?"

Riku thought a moment.  "I'm nineteen years, three months, and fourteen days old, so…that's nineteen years and one hundred five days."

"How many days in your year?" Darius asked.

"Three hundred sixty-five," Riku answered.

"Okay, so that's…seven thousand, forty days old.  Divide that by three, and you have about two thousand, three hundred forty-seven of our days.  Our years are five hundred days long, so divide the number of days by five hundred, and…you're just over four-and-a-half years old."

"Four-and-a-half?!" Riku gasped.

"Yep," Samara grinned, amused by his reaction.  "You're still a child."

"My God…" Riku muttered.  "I've been an adult for over a year where I come from."  He looked up at the other two.  "Father said that he was just about seven thousand years old.  Which scale was he using…?"

"Ylfe scale," Samara said.  "He's six thousand, eight hundred thirty-eight years old.  By human scale, that would be…"

"Twenty-eight thousand, one hundred four human years," Darius answered for her, scribbling equations on paper.

Riku was stunned.  "H-holy…!"

"He's the oldest alive today," Darius explained.  "The oldest on record died at the age of seven thousand, three hundred two.  That's…thirty thousand, eleven human years.  Father is approaching that."

Riku blinked.  Almost two thousand years off was hardly "approaching" in his mind.

"Children enter training when they are five years old," Samara said, "and they finish when they're fifteen.  They become adults when they turn twenty."

"That's over eighty human years!" Riku exclaimed, having figured the rough conversion number from the numbers he had heard so far.  It was just over four human years to each ylfe year.  "Many humans don't even live that long!"

Darius sighed.  "Yes.  They live such short lives, don't they?  It's almost appalling.  Not their fault, of course, but very unfortunate."

Riku ran his hand through his hair.  "I don't know if you guys can tell, but I'm…I'm scared inside.  I mean…I haven't even lived for five of your years so far, and it's seems like a long time to me.  Living for as long as an ylfe…it's daunting.  Terrifying, even.  I feel like I'm going to have some delayed panic attack, or something."  His voice was shaking a little bit.

"Well, I hope you come to view time the same as we do soon," Samara smiled, a little sadly.

Riku nodded slowly, then looked up at them.  "How old are you two?"

"I'm two thousand, seventy-six," Samara said.

"Two thousand, nine hundred ten," Darius answered.

"Where's your mother?" Riku ventured after a short hesitation.

Darius' eyes darkened.  "She died six hundred sixty-two years ago."

"Oh," Riku said lamely, feeling shame for asking.  "I'm sorry."

Darius shook his head.  "Don't be.  We've gone through mourning and moved on.  It's what she would have wanted.  Father, on the other hand…"

"What?" Riku asked.  He could tell that he was about to hear something terrible.

His brother and sister were silent for a long time, not looking at him.  Finally, Samara spoke up.

"Well, before I say anything, that's her picture over there on the wall," she said, pointing behind Riku.

Riku turned and looked, his eyes landing on a portrait of a radiant, smiling woman.  Darius and Samara had their mother's coloring, except that her eyes were crystal-blue.  Samara, with her happy countenance and open attitude, seemed to take after her mother.

"She's very beautiful," Riku said, turning back around.

"Yes, she was," Samara nodded.  "Her name was Wenna, and she and Father loved each other very much."

"What happened to her?" Riku asked softly.

Samara sighed.  "Well…ylfen have much stronger emotions than humans.  The common explanation is that we're much more in connection with our souls.  Humans have tales of soulmates and predestined love, but the occurrence among humans is very, very rare.  Every ylfe has a soulmate, and nearly everyone meets theirs sometime in their life.  It could happen any time.  Females have a very low fertility rate, so before meeting their soulmates, ylfen are usually quite sexually active.  Sexual relations are much more casual than among humans, generally.  When your soulmate is met, however, you immediately or almost immediately recognize them as your soulmate.  Although, there are rare occurrences where a pair that have known each other for a long time, even if they're only acquainted or even hostile toward each other, suddenly looking at each other one day and realizing that they're soulmates.  Couples go through a joining ceremony, usually quite soon after finding each other, and they have eyes for no one else from then on."

"Why did Father hook up with my mother, then?" Riku interrupted.

"I'll get to that," Samara answered.  "Just be quiet, and I'll tell you."

Riku nodded and fell silent, letting her speak.

"Father had a rocky romantic past before he met Mother," Samara continued.  "Though you can never truly romantically love anyone but your soulmate, ylfen do fall in love often.  It's like the dating scene among humans.  A pair meets, develops affection for one another, dates for a while, then loses interest in each other and move on.  There are rare instances where an ylfe believes they've found their soulmate, but it's a false alarm.  The other does not feel the same way, and the afflicted one is usually left jilted and very lonely.  They recover after a while, of course, but it hurts very much as it's happening.  That happened to Father, and for some reason, he never recovered as much as most others that experience that do.  As a result, when he met Mother, he quickly latched onto her tightly, even considering that they were soulmates.  She felt the same for him, but he was always the more—how should I say this?—ardent one.  They were very passionate, and I don't just mean sexually.  They were passionate for each other in every sense of the word.  They were joined, humans would say married, for five thousand, one hundred ninety-six years…"

"She died suddenly?" Riku asked.

"Yes," Samara nodded, her voice soft.  "She died so horribly…I-I don't like talking about it."

"I will continue, if you wish," Darius said quietly.  When Samara nodded, he picked up the story.  "Ylfe settlements are scattered over all the world, but everywhere that they aren't is untamed wilderness.  We call it the Wilds, and it's populated by a menagerie of beasts and a species of half-intelligent creatures that live in primitive settlements or as nomads.  The beasts can be anywhere from friendly to vicious, but the half-intelligent creatures, which we call kitschen, are extremely hostile toward us.  It's believed that they were rivals with us in the early days, and while we evolved to what we are today, the kitschen stayed pretty much how they were.  Now, since we live in separate places, ylfen are perfectly happy to just leave the kitschen be, but the kitschen still hate us with a passion.  No one knows why, since we don't compete with them for space or food anymore.  Now, the ylfe settlements are pretty much cut off from each other, so we have to travel through the Wilds, kitschen territory, to get from city to city and town to town.  You would think that we could just teleport between destinations, but it's not that simple.  Even though they are much weaker and less organized than us, we have to make sure kitschen attacks on our settlements, especially the small towns, are foiled before they can even go off.  So, there are invisible barriers around every settlement.  Since kitschen intelligence is somewhere between an ylfe's and a wild beast's, the barrier will not let anything with a sentience above that of a wild beast through.  That includes ylfen.  We can only enter and exit the barriers through closely guarded gates.  You remember coming through the gate to Aerie when you got here, I suppose.  To travel between settlements, we must cross through the Wilds.  Our routes are through areas that are least inhabited by kitschen, but there is still a chance of coming across them."

"Well, can't you just teleport from just outside one gate to just outside another gate?" Riku asked.

"That's easier said than done," Darius explained.  "It sounds simple, disappearing from one spot and reappearing in another, but it's not.  We have to learn how to rip through the fabric of space first, then we have to learn how to control where that hole leads.  It's very difficult, and roughly half of us never learn it well enough, if at all, to risk long-distance teleportation.  And, only the most powerful can teleport between the One World and the Many Worlds, as well as between individual worlds in the Many Worlds.  If one who doesn't know how to teleport wishes to go between planes or worlds, they have to ask the help of one who does know.  Now, ylfen, as a whole, don't like to use level of power or skill as an identifying trait, so even those who do know how to teleport often do not when traveling from one settlement to another.  It's like saying that no one is better than anyone else just because they are capable of doing more.  We usually fly as we are crossing the Wilds, but the kitschen, quasi-intelligent though they are, have devised ways to knock us out of the air, should they see us.  They didn't like the idea of us flying over their heads where they can't reach us or harm us."

"When Ansem had a hold of me," Riku said, "he often teleported, and it was like he was ripping a hole through space."

"That, I believe, was due to his alliance with the darkness," Darius shrugged.  "He was given powers that no human has ever had before."

"I see," Riku nodded.  "So…you're saying your mother died as a result of that hatred the kitschen hold for the ylfen?"

"Yes," Darius said.  "It's not law, but it's an unspoken rule to travel through the Wilds with at least one other, just to be safe.  They can defend each other, if need be.  Mother always, _always_ went with others when crossing the Wilds, especially since she didn't know teleportation.  If it wasn't Father, it was with someone else she trusted, usually part of her own family.  That one time, however, that _one time_, she did not.  She had visited the city of Titra to see her parents, and Father couldn't accompany her due to business he had here at home.  Her traveling partner, a family friend, could not come back with her, as he had been unexpectedly held up in Titra.  Mother had promised that she'd come home that day, though, so she didn't wait until he was able to go with her.  She risked it alone, and the kitschen saw a lone female ylfe flying through the air…she was a prime target, and…"

"They took her down with a well-aimed stone," Samara cut in when her brother trailed off.  "It hit her square in the right temple, and she didn't regain her bearings until she had hit the ground and they were upon her.  It was…it was the kitschen mating season, and the males were in rut…they…th-they violated her so cruelly, so brazenly…she couldn't even begin to fight back…"

"It was several hours after she was supposed to be home that Father found her," Darius said.  "He had become worried and had gone looking for her.  He found her with the kitschen that had attacked her not far off from the route she had been taking.  She was still living, but even so, they had begun to…" he shuddered with revulsion, "…_feed_ off of her body.  Father totally lost control and slaughtered them all.  He meant to heal her, but she lived only long enough to tell him one last time that she loved him.  She…died in his arms."

"I'm…I'm so sorry…" Riku whispered tightly.  Though he had never known her and had only first heard of her a little while ago, a feeling of deep rage and sorrow beat in his breast.  She was his siblings' mother, his stepmother.  She should never have died like that.

"Because the bond between soulmates is so close," Darius continued softly, "most ylfe die at most a few years after their soulmate dies, if they are not the first to go.  They die of sorrow, so to say, unable to live normally without their love beside them.  Because of his higher than normal susceptibleness to lasting consequences due to trauma, it was expected that Father die very soon after Mother died.  However, he recovered and survived.  He has so far lived over six-and-a-half centuries past her death." He paused, then continued cautiously.  "But, he didn't recover before he went mad with his grief."

Riku's eyes widened.  "He's _mad_?!"

"He is, for the most part, no different than the common ylfe in terms of mental health," Darius said.  "But, he has periods of madness, and they all have differing durations, intensities, and natures.  No one can ever predict when one will come or what will happen when it does.  I guess living with him could be considered hazardous, as he has gone through some psychotic episodes, but Samara and I can't leave him.  He raised us so well and so lovingly, we could never leave him alone just because there's the possibility he may get unruly."

The room fell silent for a while.

"What about my mother?" Riku spoke up.

Samara sighed.  "Father was exploring the Many Worlds, and he happened to come to your world.  The climate and environment there was different than what he was used to, so he decided to stay awhile.  Unfortunately, one of his fits came over him, and he totally forgot who he was.  All he knew was an incredibly intense loneliness and desperation for companionship.  In his heart, he knew that she only wanted him for a bed partner, but his conscious mind just didn't care.  Sometimes, his fits can last for months, but this one lasted for a few weeks.  Her attacking him and threatening you is what brought him to his senses, and he only then realized what he had done.  He was so ashamed of betraying Mother that he was seriously suicidal for a while after he came back, but we managed to talk him out of it.  He had told us what had happened, and we reasoned with him to stay alive for your sake.  He was the only real chance you would have to come to your rightful home."

Riku was very quiet.  Nothing his father had told him—granted, he hadn't said much—about what happened between his parents suggested anything like this.  Now, he was beginning to understand where the deep sorrow, anger, and loneliness he had seen in his father's eyes had came from.

"I believe I survived because of Riku," Sephiroth suddenly spoke up from the doorway.

All three of them jumped.

"Father!" Darius cried.  "How long have you been there?!"

"Oh, no!" Samara squeaked, covering her mouth.  "You're not angry we told him all that, did you?"

Sephiroth came forward, shaking his head.  "No.  He would have found out someday, I imagine, so it's just as well that he finds out now."

"What do you mean that you think you survived because of me?" Riku asked.

"You were the true Keyblade Master, correct?" Sephiroth inquired.

"Yes," Riku nodded.  "It went over to Sora when I chose darkness over light."

"I think I survived so you would be born," Sephiroth said.  "If I had died, you would never have come along, Riku.  The Keyblade appears very rarely, and to a very select few.  Every time it appears is a high point in a very long road that one of fate's many branches is taking.  I survived because you were to be my son, and the Keyblade was supposed to go to you when it appeared this time.  If I had died, you would never have been born, and the most qualified candidate to wield the Keyblade would have never existed.  It would have gone to Sora automatically.  Yes, that's what happened anyway, but that was the unfortunate result of your own free will.  Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Riku nodded slowly.  "I suppose that's also the reason you and my mother…um…"

"Yes, I think so," Sephiroth agreed.  "Now, to change the subject, I've talked to the Court of Reason.  They said that they have time to see you before they're adjourned for the day.  After that, it will be getting late, so you'll probably want to go to bed.  I imagine you're becoming tired."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku rubbed his wrist.  He didn't think that the Court's assessment of his ability to live in the One World would include a physical test.  Now, he was starting to feel sore.

"Hey, is this Riku?" a voice suddenly said behind him, and before any response could be made, a hand came down on Riku's shoulder, making him jump and whirl around, startled.

"Yes, this is Riku," Sephiroth chuckled.

Riku blinked at the newcomer.  He was several inches shorter than his father, but outlandishly spiked blond hair made up for that.  A black batlike wing was folded against his left back.

"Hey, Riku," the man said.  "I'm Cloud, a cousin of your father's.  Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Cloud," Riku responded.

"Back from the Many Worlds, I see," Sephiroth said.  "For how long?"

"I'm not planning on going back anytime soon," Cloud shrugged.  "I've spent years there, and I may as well come home."

"Are you the same Cloud that Sora met in the Coliseum?" Riku asked.  "He said you had lost your world."

"I lived on Hollow Bastion when Ansem destroyed it," Cloud said.  "It was my world while I lived there, so it wasn't a lie.  I was just keeping my cover that I was human."  He looked Riku up and down.  "Man, you look even more like your father than the last time I saw you."

Riku's brows furrowed.  "But, we've never met."

"Not in person," Cloud said.  "I've seen you before, though.  I helped Sephiroth when he aided you in returning to your islands.  I kept an eye on what was going on with you as he concentrated on helping you."

"I see," Riku said.

"If you're staying home for a while," Sephiroth asked, "what did you say to that girl?"

"Aerith?" Cloud asked, naming her.  "Oh…we were never serious.  We dated some, but we were more friends than anything else.  She called me a 'mixed-up kid', because I acted naïve about love.  The reason for that was that I wasn't sure how humans went about relationships.  She was sorry to see me go, but she wasn't begging me to stay, or anything.  I told her I had to leave the central castle and go to some other region of the world.  She's unaware that I left that plane entirely."

"Well, at least she let you go without any guilt," Sephiroth said.  "Anyway, Cloud, I ought to get Riku home.  He's had a long day."

"Okay," Cloud nodded.  "Welcome to our world, Riku, and good luck with your training."

"Thank you," Riku said.  "I'll be seeing you around?"

"Yeah," Cloud said.  "My home isn't too far away from yours.  I'll see you later."

As they headed back home, Riku turned to his father.  "He looked like a blond Sora."

"That happens sometimes," Sephiroth shrugged.  "It's either coincidence or doppelgangers.  Take your pick."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Man, I hope that didn't get too wordy and bore you.  I also hope the explanations of things didn't sound too contrived.  I wanted them to make sense, but I don't know if they do.  I really drew time out for the ylfe.  I made Sephiroth old, didn't I?  ^_^;;  And, if you figure it out, being in training from age five to fifteen is a little over forty human years.  Eep.  Now, I may not have gotten this written as I planned, as I'm writing another KH fic, "Heart of Darkness", that centers on Ansem.  But, since I'm going away this weekend, and won't have access to a computer, I thought I'd not make you guys wait for the next chapter.  "Heart of Darkness" is a one-shot (unless it gets way too long and makes me split it into chapters) and will be posted all at once, so people won't have to wait for the next part like with this one.  So, I wrote this chapter all in one night so I wouldn't leave you guys waiting.  I hope you guys like it!  I hope I didn't turn you off with all the wordy explanations!  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	6. Hard Adjustments

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Six:  Hard Adjustments 

"Mmm…"

Riku stirred in his bed as he began to wake up, his eyelids fluttering.  He rolled over onto his back, partially stretching, and turned his head to his right to look at his clock—

—but when he opened his eyes, he found that he was not at home at all.  He was in what appeared to be an underground chamber, the walls carved out of white stone.

He gasped and sat bolt upright, too fast for his inner ears' comfort, and his vision swam from the sudden change.  He sat hunched forward for a moment, waiting for his head to clear.  When it did, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head, then looked up again.

He was in that same strange room.

Finally, his sleep-slogged brain dug up the memories of yesterday.  He had come back to the One World with his father, and had committed himself to the ylfe lifestyle.

_And lifespan_, he thought.  _So, it wasn't a dream, after all._

He slowly stood, still half thinking that it couldn't be real, and looked down at himself.  He had been very sleepy the night before, so he didn't remember much between getting home and going to bed.  He was in a blue-white, ankle-length nightgown, the fabric light but warm, soft but sturdy.  He must have borrowed it from either his father or his brother.

Looking around the room, he took in his surroundings.  It was a medium-sized room made up as a bedroom, and though it had no windows to the outside, the whiteness of the limestone walls kept it from being suffocating.  Small lamps that looked like they held oil were burning low along the wall at about head level, giving light to the room that would otherwise be pitch-dark.  Along with the bed, there was a desk against one wall with a chair, a small round table with three other chairs around it, a couch next to a small bookcase with a number of books in it, and a door in the wall opposite the door leading into the room from the hallway.  Opening it, he saw it was a walk-in closet.  On the floor was a blue rug that took up most of the floor space.  The shag wasn't terribly long, but it was soft, easy on bare feet.  The whole room, aside from the walls, ceiling, and floor, was in blues and greens, and the metal things, such as the doorknobs and mirror frame, looked to be polished steel.

_This must be a guestroom_, Riku thought, sitting back down on the bed after turning the lamps up.  The flames were whiter than candle flames, so he guessed that it was very hot-burning oil.  He saw a pair of slippers the same color as his nightgown on the rug next to the bed, and he put them on.

He noticed a ticking noise, each tick about half a second apart from its neighbors.  Looking to his left, he saw a small table by the head of the bed, and on it was a fourhanded clock.  Looking closer, he saw that it was much like the clocks that he was used to.  A short hand indicated hours, a long hand indicated minutes, and a second, thinner long hand indicated seconds.  The fourth hand was about the same length as the hour hand, and it was the fastest.  It, according to the number of small marks between second marks, indicated tenths of a second.  Every time it got to a second mark, the clock ticked louder, and the second hand moved one mark over.  He looked at the clock for several minutes, keeping time in his head, and finally decided that one second on this clock was about five seconds on the clock in his old bedroom back in Fate.

_No wonder they have a fourth hand_, Riku mused.  _Five seconds is a long time for the smallest time increment, so they went smaller._

After examining the room for a while longer, he decided to go out and see who was up and about.  The clock had said it was two twenty-five, and though he wasn't sure how many human hours that was, he knew it was much later in the morning that two twenty-five was in the Destiny Islands.

_I wonder how long it will take me to fully adopt these time measurements and stop trying to figure out how it compares to time in the Destiny Islands_, he thought to himself.  _Forever, for all I know._

Opening the door, he saw a curved hallway going in both directions, lined with the same kind of lamps that were in his room.  They were dim, and there were too many to bother turning them all up, so he chose a direction and went on in the soft light.  He had no idea in what direction he was going in.  He didn't know if he was going toward the outside, deeper underground, or parallel to the cliff face.  Choosing a door at random, he opened it and looked in.  It was completely dark in there.  The room wasn't in use at the moment.

"Get lost?" a voice said suddenly behind him just as he closed the door.

Riku whirled around, his heart in his throat, totally surprised.  It was Sephiroth.  His father had walked up behind him without a trace of sound.  His boots had made absolutely no noise on the bare stone floor.

"Don't scare me like that!" he gasped, trying to calm his wild heartbeat.

"Sorry," Sephiroth shrugged.  "You need to be more alert."

"How could I be alert for no sound?!" Riku growled, though he wasn't truly upset, just miffed at the scare.

"There are more ways to sense an approach than by sound," his father said.  "You'll learn about that later, though, so don't worry about it.  Go back to your room and get dressed.  There are some clothes your size in the closet.  After that, go down the hallway in the other direction, and you'll come to the outside rooms.  You can't miss the dining room, so go in there.  Samara is finishing up making breakfast."

Riku nodded, and on the way back to his room, he posed a question.  "Where do you get the oil for all these lamps in a canyon like this?"

"Oil?" his father asked, puzzled.  "Oh, these lamps don't hold any—er—conventional fuel in them.  These are magic fires, and they never go out unless we want them to."

"Magic fires?" Riku thought aloud.

Sephiroth nodded.  "This world, especially in and around ylfe settlements, is saturated with magic and other forces humans consider supernatural.  A theory states that the presence of magic, psychic forces, and other such things in the Many Worlds is caused by a dimensional crack between the Many Worlds and the One World.  Personally, I don't think that's true, and I believe those things come from the world hearts in that dimension, just like it comes from the heart of the One World in this one.  Anyway, I have some books that can explain the different theories better than I could, if you're interested."

"So, ylfe can manipulate the magic permeating this world?" Riku asked.

"Yes," Sephiroth nodded again.  "Learning how is part of the training you'll start soon.  Here's your room.  I'll see you in the dining room, then."  He continued off down the hallway, leaving Riku by the door.

Riku found an outfit in the colors he most liked (blue, green, and yellow), and put it on.  When he did, the material seemed to mold to his body, fitting him perfectly, as if it were custom-made.  Ylfen seemed to like clothes that accented the shape of the body, form-fitting but not tight.  The design was similar to what his father was wearing, though simpler and straighter.  After several minutes of figuring out how everything fastened, he went out and followed the hallway in the direction his father had indicated.

Breakfast consisted of three dishes:  one was poultry-like meat in a faintly salty sauce, another was a sliced fruit similar to a pear, and the third resembled oatmeal, but it tasted more like wheat.  In a glass was a clear liquid that he at first assumed was water, but it was tangy and sweet, like nectarine juice.  He learned that on the side of the canyon opposite the gate he and Sephiroth had entered, the barrier ballooned out to encase an area of several square miles that held wide expanses of farmland, livestock yards, and orchards.  Aerie got the majority of its food from there, but some of it was imported by guarded supply caravans from other settlements, and Aerie exported a certain amount of its food products back to the other cities.  A small percentage of food was hunted or gathered from the Wilds, but it was a dangerous business.  The kitschen only populated about half of the Wilds at any given time, but they were nomadic, so one never knew when a group or two would come into an area.  Primitive though they were, they had hunting and attacking methods that made them a danger to any ylfe caught unawares, proof that heightened senses and magic abilities can never truly ensure victory.

After breakfast, Riku went out onto the veranda.  The wind was light and cool, and as he looked out, he saw dozens of ylfen going to and fro across and along the canyon.  The main transportation method appeared to be flight, and he felt a desire deeply ingrained in his ylfe blood stir in his chest.  The desire to fly and ride the wind was waking, and it manifested itself as a dull ache in and around his heart.  He closed his eyes and took a step toward the edge before he realized what he was doing.

A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.  "Don't," his father said behind him.  "No sense falling to your death on your first day here."

Riku opened his eyes, but did not turn around.  "I want…I-I need…"

"I should teach you the flight spell soon," Sephiroth said, as if reading his mind.  "It's not complicated.  It's the first spell most ylfe children master, and they learn it before they're even full-grown, usually."

"Why to ylfen wait so long to be declared adults?" Riku asked, his eyes still fixed on the others of this race so new yet so familiar to him.  "Why not at the average age of reaching full size, like humans do?"

"It's because of our lifespan," Sephiroth answered.  "If I remember right, humans used to be considered adults at age twelve or thirteen.  It wasn't because they grew up faster, but because their lifespan was shorter and they were considered old at age thirty."

"Mm…" Riku muttered.  "Will I be able to fly, even if I don't have a wing?"

"Yes.  Remember how I told you that our wings really have nothing to do with flight?"

"Yes, but Sora told me that Cloud extended his wing whenever he took to flight in battle."

"It was just a symbolic thing.  He did it because he wanted to, not because he needed to."

"I see."  After a pause, Riku asked the question that had been burning in his mind since yesterday.  "Do I have a wing?"

"Well, let's see," Sephiroth said, and as he said this, he reached around Riku and unfastened his shirt.

"Hey!" Riku yelped, startled.  He turned around to face his father, his expression more than a little jarred.

"Just relax and hold still," Sephiroth said matter-of-factly, taking off his gloves.  "It's easiest if we have skin-to-skin contact.  Are humans really all that inhibited when it comes to touch?"

"Er…well…yeah," Riku answered.  "A lot of us are, especially when someone of our own sex does that."  He still looked doubtful.

Sephiroth sighed, giving Riku a look.  "Just turn around.  We're a lot more touch-oriented than humans are, and we touch each other for plenty of other reasons besides sex.  Believe me, after a while, you'll think the same way we do about it.  You can take your shirt off yourself, if you want, just be quick about it."

Riku blinked and did what he was told, slipping his shirt off and letting it hang at his waist, held up by his belt.  He felt his father's hands laid gently against his shoulder blades, putting on a very light pressure.  His touch was cool, though a shade warmer than the breeze.

"What are you doing?" Riku asked.

"You wanted to know if you have a wing, so I'm checking," Sephiroth replied.  "It's not physically inside of you, if you do, but I can sense it more clearly if I'm in direct contact with you."  His hands were slowly and meticulously feeling about, the fingertips pressing into his skin.  Riku was reminded of checking to see if a fruit is ripe by squeezing it.

"Mm…" Sephiroth finally said after several minutes.  "You do have one in there.  It just needs to be broken out so you have access to it."

"Well then, break it out," Riku said.

"Not here," Sephiroth shook his head.  "We should go into your bedroom.  Your body is through growing, and this will be the first time you extend your wing.  It could be painful, and you should have a place to lie down if you need to."

"Painful?" Riku asked.  "How painful…?"

"I don't know," Sephiroth said.  "Let's go find out, huh?"

Several minutes later, they were back in Riku's room.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Sephiroth asked.

"As ready as I ever will be," Riku answered.

Putting his hands to Riku's back again, Sephiroth extended his senses back into Riku's spirit, feeling about in his as yet mostly untapped power for the wing.  Finding it, he grasped it, and knowing no better way to go about it, he pulled.

Riku shivered as he felt his father's power seep into him, piercing into what had to be his soul, searching.  He instinctively pushed against the invasion, but held back as much as he could, knowing that his father meant him no harm.  He stiffened as he felt a part of himself surrounded and gripped, and his teeth grit tightly as it was pulled upon.  It became more and more uncomfortable, and he began to shake as pain started throbbing in his back.  He moaned.

"Almost there," he heard his father say.  "Brace yourself."

Riku's moaning turned into a keening sound as the pain got worse, then suddenly exploded into a scream.  It felt as if a hole had been ripped in his back and his innards yanked out through it.  Off-balance, he tipped backward before he could accommodate the change.

Sephiroth caught him before he hit the ground and quickly picked him completely up.  He turned toward the bed and laid his son gently on it, facedown.

Riku was trembling terribly, pain-wracked, but he seemed to calm some when he was laid down on the bed.  Tears of pain stained his cheeks, and it was several minutes before he could say anything.  The wing, a carbon copy of his father's, lay limply to one side.  The flesh of his back around it was red and undoubtedly tender to the touch.

"I'm sorry, Riku," Sephiroth said softly, sitting on the bed next to him.  "I'm here.  The pain will pass soon."  He was gently stroking his son's soft hair, keeping it from sticking to Riku's sweaty face.

"H-hurts…" Riku murmured.  "I feel…torn inside out…"

"Just relax," his father soothed.  "It won't seem as bad if you relax."

"Mm…" Riku moaned, and tried to nod, but his consciousness suddenly retreated from the searing pain, and he fainted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"It shouldn't have gone on this long," Sephiroth murmured, more to himself than to his half-conscious son, who still lay facedown in the bed.  As expected, the flesh around the base of his wing had swollen in reaction to the new appendage, but it was more swollen and painful than he thought it would be, and it hadn't receded at all since it had begun a day ago.  It was burning hot to the touch, and Riku could barely speak from the throbbing agony.

"Mmmnnnnn…" Riku moaned, flinching as his father removed the now warm damp cloths from his back and replaced then with cool ones.

"I'm sorry, Riku," Sephiroth said.  "I'm sorry I put you in so much pain."

"I-it's n-not your f-fault…" Riku stammered.  "I-I gave you th-the go-ahead."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Sephiroth said.

The door opened, and a blond spiky head poked in.

"Hey, I hear Riku's in pain," Cloud said.  "Is he all right?"

Sephiroth sighed.  "His body's reaction is worse than I expected.  The pain and swelling is worse than I anticipated, and it hasn't begun to abate at all since it started yesterday."

Cloud came in and shut the door.  "Well, if he's in that much pain, and it's not going down on its own, then do a healing spell on him.  There isn't any reason you can't, is there?"

Sephiroth sighed again.  "No, but whenever it crosses my mind, I think that it's gone on for so long, it must be getting close to receding.  Then, it doesn't, and I wait a little more, and the next time I think of healing him, the same thing happens, as well as the next time…it's kept happening, and now a day has gone by."

"Well, stop it, then!" Cloud said.  "I know healing spells beyond simple Cure magic are a delicate business, and easy to mess up, but go ahead!  You're son is hurting, and I haven't know you to screw up a spell for at least five hundred years!"

"I guess you're right," Sephiroth assented, brushing his hair back from his face.  "I could use an extra pair of hands, though."

"Okay," Cloud nodded, then turned his head and sneezed into the crook of his elbow.

"Getting sick?" Sephiroth asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Cloud said.  "Wouldn't you know it?  Home only a few days, and I'm already getting sick.  Feels like just a common cold, though.  What do you need an extra pair of hands for?"

"Hold his wing up," Sephiroth said.  "Hold it at a ninety-degree angle to his back, so I can get both sides."  As he said this, he picked up the limp wing and began to lift it up for Cloud to take.

A sudden, anguished wail from Riku stopped them both cold.

"D-don't!" he yowled, tears slipping down his face.  "Hurts!"

"I'm sorry, Riku," Sephiroth said, a sick feeling washing through him as he imagined what his son was going through.  "Just bite the pillowcase and hold out for a few seconds longer.  The pain will go away very soon."

Cloud took the trembling wing, his face a shade paler than normal.  "Are you sure this thing came out all right?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Sephiroth said as he laid his gloveless hands on Riku's back, clenching his teeth as his son tensed up and shrieked again.  "That's not the problem!"  Cool, soothing power seeped from his hands into Riku's skin, and the suffering boy moaned piteously, the relief so sudden and so sharp, it at first felt like a new pain.

"Just relax, Riku," Cloud said softly, brushing stray wisps of hair out of Riku's eyes.  "It'll be over in a minute."

Sephiroth's eyes had closed and his head had bowed slightly forward as he concentrated on the puffy, sore tissue under his hands.  His power and consciousness moved through the fibers of his son's body, inducing it to increase its healing ability for as long as the power lingered.  Any injuries for the next day or so will heal uncommonly fast until the residue from the curative spell completely dissipates, but for now, he concentrated solely on Riku's back.

Little-by-little, bit-by-bit, Riku's hyper-tense body relaxed, the trembling stopped, and his pained whimpering tapered down to soft, easy breathing.  The swelling shrank and cooled until it was completely gone, his back restored to the way it was naturally.

Sephiroth withdrew his power from Riku's body, lifting his hands from his back at the same time.  Opening his eyes, he looked down at his son.  "There.  Do you feel better?  I'm sorry for making you wait so long."

"Mmm…" Riku muttered, cracking an eye open.  "Thank you, Father, Cloud."

"Oh, don't thank me," Cloud said, easing the wing back down, aware that Riku's flight muscles—in name only—were probably not yet strong enough to support the wing's weight.  "All I did was hold your wing up."  He turned away to cough briefly.

"Still, you helped," Riku said.

"You should rest, Riku," Sephiroth said, pulling the bedcovers up and over his son.  "You haven't had an ounce of rest since I brought your wing out."

"Mm," Riku said, nodding against the pillow.

"Sleep now," Sephiroth smiled softly.  "You took that better than a lot of ylfe I know, I'm sure."

Riku managed an exhausted smile back, then let his eyes slip closed and sleep overtake him.

"Come on, Cloud," Sephiroth said as he stood up.  He made a brief hand motion in the air, and the lamps around the room dimmed.  "We should let him rest."  Just as the door was about to close completely…

"Ah-choo!"

"Hey!  Don't sneeze on me, you spiky-headed jerk!  I don't want to get sick, too!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Knock, knock!"

A shrill, cheery voice could be heard through Riku's door in unison with the sound of someone knocking.  Samara entered an instant later, a tray with two bowls and a glass balanced on one arm.

"I thought you'd might like something to eat, Riku, since you haven't eaten for over a day," she said, setting the tray down on the table by the head of the bed.  We didn't know if you'd feel strong enough to get up yet, so I brought you some supper."  She tilted her head, looking at the ball underneath the blankets that represented her brother.  She poked at what she guessed was his shoulder.  "Hey, are you asleep?  Wake up, you lazybones!"

The ball twitched, like he was making a feeble attempted to shrug her off, and a muffled grunt could be heard.  Or, was that a cough?  Was it just her, or were the blankets shaking some?  Concerned, she took hold of the edge of the bedclothes and eased them back.

She gasped, her eyes flying wide, all the cheer gone from her.  A violent coughing fit from Riku spurred her into action.  "R-Riku!  Oh, my goodness!  FATHER!"  She bolted out the door like a woman terrified.

Riku barely moved, not bothering to pull the bedclothes back up and over himself.  He hardly seemed to respond when Samara burst back through the door, dragging their father behind her.

"What are you screeching about, now?" Sephiroth asked, only half alarmed.  His daughter tended to over-exaggerate the seriousness of things.

"Look at him!" she practically shouted in his ear.  "He's very sick!"

Sephiroth looked over at his son, and was suddenly VERY alarmed.  He leapt over to the bedside and ripped the covers completely back.  Riku was curled up tightly, shivering violently.  His skin was red and slicked with sweat, his hair and feathers drenched in the stuff.  His breath came in short bursts, and it was painfully raspy.  Blood could be seen at the corner of his mouth, as his throat had been coughed so raw, it was bleeding.  Saliva and nasal discharge were staining the sheets around his face, as he was too preoccupied with his discomfort to swallow or even sniff.  Finally, his wide green eyes were weepy, and his eyelashes were starting to crust over.

_What the hell happened?!_ he thought frantically.  _I left him alone for less than an hour!  Why didn't I sense his suffering?!_  "Don't just stand there!" he barked at Samara.  "Go get your brother and send him here, then bring back clean sheets!  _Get going!_"

Panicked by the nearly vicious urgency in her father's voice, Samara raced out the door to do as she was told.

"Hold on, Riku," Sephiroth gritted, forcing his son to straighten.  He picked up the stiff, trembling body and set it on the nearby couch, then stripped the covers off the bed, wadding them up loosely and throwing them on the floor by the door.  He had figured out what had happened, and was not happy about it in the least.

"What do you need, Father?" Darius asked from the door.  He had been unsettled by his sister's frantic state, but wasn't sure what was going on.

"Riku is very ill!" Sephiroth answered.  "Take those bedclothes to the dirty laundry, then bring back what you need to take care of a cold, only LOTS OF IT!"

Darius blinked, then he, too, quickly obeyed.

"That Cloud is so dead," Sephiroth seethed, kneeling down by Riku and making sure he was still breathing.  He knew Cloud hadn't done this on purpose, but Sephiroth needed something to rail at at the moment.  Cloud was coming down with a common cold, and though the symptoms are similar to a cold from the Many Worlds, the virus is fundamentally different from its Many Worlds counterpart.  Riku's body had no defenses against it, so he had caught it after only a few minutes with the blond warrior, and he had caught it bad.  The symptoms had blown way out of normal proportions.

Riku had a fever, and his shivering was from the "coldness" of the air around him as felt by his overheated body.  He suddenly convulsed in a hacking, raspy cough, flecks of blood spraying from his flayed throat.  He whined thinly.

"Wh-what's…happening to…me…?" he managed to croak out.

"You've caught the most common illness in the One World," Sephiroth explained, taking Riku's hand and squeezing gently.  "Your body has never encountered it before, and you got no natural defenses against it from your mother as she carried you.  You've caught a cold, so to speak, only magnified several times."  He hoped Riku wasn't too delirious to understand.

"Here," Darius said at Sephiroth's side, setting a bowl of water with a cloth in it on the floor next to him.  He had brought in that, another bowl of water, several packets of tissue, and a larger bowl in case Riku had to vomit.  "Anything else?"  Behind them, Samara was remaking the bed.

"No, that's fine to start with," Sephiroth said.  "Thank you."  He stood up, went over to the closet, and got a long white nightgown, almost like a hospital gown.  He stripped Riku's sweaty clothes off and redressed him in that.  When Samara finished, he picked Riku up and put him back in the bed.

"Can't you heal him, Father?" Samara asked, sounding strangely timid.  She was still shaken up by the sudden discovery of Riku's illness and their father's explosive reaction.

"He can, but he shouldn't," Darius said.

"Right," Sephiroth nodded.  "I can heal him, but I don't want to unless his life is threatened.  Even then, I would only heal him to the point where the disease was manageable again.  If I heal him completely, his body would have no opportunity to fight the virus by itself and build up immunity.  Hopefully, the next time he catches this, he'll have no more violent a reaction to it than the rest of us."

"Oh, I see," Samara said.

"Mmnnnf…" Riku groaned through his ravaged throat.  "A-am I e-ever g-going to get o-out of th-this b-bed…?"

Sephiroth smiled softly in bittersweet amusement.  "You two can leave now, if you want," he said to Darius and Samara.  "I can handle this for now, though it looks like I'll be here for a long time.  I'll call you if I need you."  As his two older children exited, he added, "Oh, and tell Cloud that, if he comes within a hundred yards of here before both he and Riku are healthy again, I'll hit him so hard that he'll be able to count his teeth on one hand."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku rolled over from his side to his front, holding the blankets wrapped around himself.  He had been sick and stuck in this bed for around a month.  After two to three weeks of complete misery due to the cold gone terribly wrong, he finally began to recover.  Over two weeks, his fever had gradually disappeared, the cold symptoms had lessened to more manageable levels, and his throat had slowly healed.  His voice was still rough and raspy, but his father had said that that would disappear soon enough.  Even without healing magic, ylfen has recovering abilities higher than those of humans.  There was much less chance of his throat scarring than there would be if he were full human.

"Are you feeling a little better, Son?" a voice said at the bedside, and he felt a warm hand on the skin of his back, gently rubbing up and down his spine, causing him to relax.

"Mmhm," he muttered, opening his eyes a little bit.  His father sat beside him, as he had almost constantly during Riku's sickness.  He had slept on the nearby couch, eaten in here with Riku (though Riku seldom ate during the first few weeks), and he only left when Darius and/or Samara had insisted that they take over for a while to let him rest a bit.  He had never said it aloud, but Sephiroth was terrified of how this illness would leave his youngest child.  Riku was half-human, the only known hybrid between a human and an ylfe, so who knows what lasting consequences an ylfe disease like this would leave on him?  Riku was strong, however, and even though he had sunk into a timeless delirium for weeks, his body's immune system and his survival instinct had constantly fought, until he was finally on the road to recovery.  He appreciated his father's diligence, though.  He most likely would have been much worse off without it.

"Would you like some water?" Sephiroth asked.

"Yeah," Riku whispered hoarsely.  Though his throat felt almost no pain anymore, it sounded uncomfortable for him to speak.  He tried to push himself up.  However, he still felt weak, and his arms trembled as they lifted his weight from the mattress.

"Here, let me help," Sephiroth said, and without waiting for an answer, he maneuvered Riku up into a sitting-kneeling position.  His shoulders were slumped, and his wing was still held limply, but just sitting up was much better than a week ago, when he could still barely lift his head up.

Riku took the short, wide cup of water his father handed to him.  It was more like a high-sided bowl with a handle on it.  He drank down half the water, then sighed as he felt relief slowly spreading through him.  His fever was gone, but he was still a little sweaty, stuck as he was in bed.  It felt good to replenish his body's water supply, and his throat was constantly itching for some kind of cold liquid.  Until it started to heal, his shredded, bloody throat reacted violently to him swallowing anything, even his own saliva.  It was agony to force anything down, so he had become starved and dehydrated, no matter how much his father and siblings had tried to get him to eat or drink something.  Now, his throat was recovering, and it felt dry and scratchy.  Cold water helped that immensely.

"You've been looking much better, Riku," Sephiroth said, squeezing his shoulder.  "You'll be fully recovered soon, I'm sure."

"I hope so," Riku said, taking another sip of water.  "I'm getting tired of this bed, and I'm absolutely sick to feel the wind in my hair again.  I wish this room had windows."

"Well, that's one of the cons of living in an underground house," Sephiroth shrugged.

"Mm," Riku replied, and he downed the rest of the water.  He handed the cup back to his father, then eased himself back down.  He really wanted to get up out of bed, but his body still complained if he wasn't lying down for more than a few minutes.  It still hadn't quite gotten its strength back up again.

"You're hair is getting longer," Sephiroth observed, tucking it behind Riku's ear to keep it out of his eyes.  Indeed, his hair was about three inches longer than it had been when he had first come to the One World.  "Would you like it cut when you're feeling better?"

"No," Riku answered, rolling over onto his back and adjusting himself as best he could.  "I've had it the same length for years.  Maybe it's time for a change."

Sephiroth smiled as he looked down upon his son, very strongly reminded of what he himself had looked like as a child before his training period.

"Maybe, Son," he sad.  "Maybe."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Poor Riku.  He's had it really hard adjusting to his new home, hasn't he?  I had thought Riku's coming to the One World wouldn't all be tea and biscuits, so I thought up two obstacles to his starting life as an ylfe.  Though, I made his illness a little nastier than I expected.  O_o;;  I tend to do that a lot.  I plan something out, then make it a lot worse than I planned.  -_-;;  Ah, well.  I hope you all liked this chapter.  We're having troubles with our phones, so we may have to temporarily disconnect at least the computer phone line.  I'm telling you this so you know what's going on if there's a long stretch with no fics or chapters from me (not necessarily right after this one, as I'm not sure if and when it will happen or what kind of writing I will do between now and if/when it happens).  On the other hand, I could just be suffering from writer's block during that dry spell.  -_-;;  Anyway, if it happens, don't worry, as the phone line will be back up as soon as possible.  Riku will be all better in the next chapter, and in fact will be training age.  I hope I get it written and posted soon, but if I don't, for whatever reason, just be patient.  Let me know what you think of this in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	7. A Glimpse of the Past

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Seven:  A Glimpse of the Past 

"Just who is he, anyway?" Riku asked.  "He doesn't seem to have connections to anybody besides friendship."

"Who are you talking about?" Darius asked, looking up from his book.

"Cloud," Riku said, pointing.  He and Darius were outside on the veranda, and Cloud could be seen a few balconies away.

"Oh, him," his brother said, nodding.  "He doesn't really, not anymore.  He has no siblings, his parents are dead, he has yet to meet his soulmate, and he "dates", as humans say it, less often than the majority of single ylfen.  Your father is a distant cousin of his, but they're distant enough that it's hard to consider them relatives.  They're something like tenth cousins twice removed, and it was by accident that they found out the relation at all as Cloud researched his family history in Aerie's central library.  They're more considered master and pupil than family members."

"Master and pupil?" Riku asked, confused.  "Isn't it the parents' job to train their children?"

"Yes, and he was trained by his parents," Darius answered.  "I didn't say that he wasn't, but he learned teleportation from Father.  He is more adept in physical weaponry than sorcery, though he has an average skill level in magic for an ylfe his age.  Besides swordplay, teleportation is his most developed talent.  You realize that he can teleport between dimensions and worlds as easily as Father, yet he is only about half Father's age."

"Um, yeah," Riku said, "I guess I noticed it."

"It's not that he's any more powerful than the norm for his age," Darius continued.  "As I said, he's about average.  The thing is, his wanderlust was so powerful that he desired to learn teleportation more than any other magic.  He sought out Father as a teacher, and he became skilled in it before most ylfen even begin to learn.  I don't think he had even yet reached one thousand when he first went unassisted to the Many Worlds."

"I see," Riku nodded.  "He's about thirty-five hundred years old?"

"Something like that," Darius affirmed.  "He's older than both Samara and I."

"Is it often that ylfen seek out teachers other than their parents?"

"About half do.  They wish to specialize in one thing or another, and if neither of their parents specializes in it, they find someone who does who's willing to teach them.  Most who find outside teachers do so once they've completed their training under their parents, so it's not like they're snubbing their parents' training abilities."

"What about the half who don't seek outside teachers?"

"Their skills are usually more generalized.  It's entirely possible to master one skill or power to the level of special expertise without an outside teacher, but that usually takes a lot longer and considerably more will, patience, and practice."

"Hm," Riku nodded.  "I wonder if I'll choose any particular thing I want to concentrate on."

"You've only been in training about a year," Darius said.  "There's no hurry to decide."

"I guess so," Riku said.  "Well, I'm going to take off."

"Okay," Darius said.  "See you later, then."

Riku stepped off the edge of the veranda.  He fell for several feet, his descent slowly lessening until he had stopped going down completely and instead was going forward.  He had learned the flight spell with no difficulty, and was now as natural aloft as any native-born ylfe.

He began to descend again, arcing down toward the bottom of the canyon in a wide, lazy curve.  The river at the bottom of the huge limestone crack appeared to slowly grow as he neared it.  In the wider parts, it was slower and calmer, while its flow was swift and violent in the narrower parts.  He leveled out again near the water's surface and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair.  It was a lovely day…

His danger sense suddenly pinged, causing his eyes to snap open.  He threw himself to the side, knowing something was about to come down on him from above.

"Ack!" Cloud yelped, barely stopping his dive before hitting the water.  He had meant to get the drop on Riku, but failed.  "Damn it!" he growled, flying just inches above the surface.

"Ha, you missed me," Riku grinned, "again."

"Don't get sassy, kid," Cloud warned, though he was grinning as well.  "I've nailed you plenty of times.  Besides, you're supposed to respect your elders."

"Only if my elders earn my respect," Riku shrugged, acting like Cloud was barely a threat to him.  In truth, Cloud could probably kick his ass six ways from Sunday in an all-out fight.

"Oh, you want me to 'earn your respect', huh?" Cloud asked.  "How should I do that?"

"First, you gotta catch me," Riku answered, and without another word, he was off like a shot.

"Tag, is it?" Cloud smirked, and took off after him.  Riku and Cloud weren't really rivals, but they did have a yen for racing each other.  They had become fast friends soon after Riku had come to the One World, and as all friends do, they had a thing for friendly competition.

Riku had many times proven himself very fast, and he zipped around over the water like a skeeter, zigzagging around like a gazelle with a predator after it.  He often "bounced" off the canyon walls, landing and taking off like they were springboards.  The silver-haired speed demon was a very hard target to catch.

Cloud, though, was not one to take a challenge lying down.  He wasn't as fast as Riku, but speed doesn't matter as much if you have strategy.  Because of his speed, Riku was often hard to see, but he wasn't any harder to detect by his spiritual signature than he was standing still.  Cloud closed his eyes and concentrated, locking onto Riku and "following" him with his mind.  Soon, Riku passed very close to Cloud, and the blond warrior suddenly surged into action, taking off in the direction Riku was going in almost before Riku had entirely passed him.  The younger man yipped in surprise and tried to veer off sharply, but wasn't lucky enough to avoid Cloud completely.  The older man got a hold of him, and he lost his equilibrium, flipped over midair, and tumbled down into the water.

Unfortunately for Cloud, he was pulled in as well before he realized that Riku had also gotten a hold of him.

SPLASH.

The coldness of the water was enough to make Riku stiffen up.  Growing up on a tropical island, his body was much more partial to warm water, and he still seized up if suddenly submerged in cold.  The river wasn't frigid, but the Destiny Island climate that he was used to made it seem to him much colder than it was.  His eyes had reflexively shut tightly, but he forced them open to see where he was.  He was in a calm part of the river, and he was sinking much like if he had fallen into a lake, the river current only slightly altering his downward course to the bottom.  He tried to swim upwards, but his body all but refused to respond, and he hadn't had time to take an adequate breath before entering the water.  His lungs were already burning for air, and his shocked body was even less responsive for it.

Panic seized him as he hit the riverbed, the impact causing him to release what little air was in his lungs.  His eyes had closed again, and his mind was racing.  _Where's Cloud oh don't leave me I need help I can't do it oh God help me I'm freezing I'm dying I can't die now someone help me please get me out of here…_

Strong hands grasped him by the ribs, and he was being hauled up to the surface of the water.  His heart and lungs felt ready to burst within his chest when he could suddenly breathe again. He gasped and coughed violently, clutching at his savior.  At first, he thought it was Cloud, but then he realized that there was hair tangled in his fingers.  Cloud's hair, even when wet and limp, didn't fall this far down his back.  Opening his eyes, Riku found himself looking into green.

"Father!" he gasped, then choked, coughing more.

"I saw you go in," Sephiroth said, holding his son tightly as they hovered a few feet above the water.  "I knew you were still not well-adjusted to the water temperature, so I came over.  It's a good thing I did, because Cloud had hit the water awkwardly, and was stunned enough to be unable to come to your aid."

"Is he all right?!" Cloud asked, scared, coming over from the small ledge near the surface that Sephiroth had set him on after snatching him out of the water.  "I'm sorry, Riku!  I didn't mean to throw you in!"

"It was an accident, Cloud," Sephiroth answered for Riku, who was still gasping to fill his starved lungs.  "It could have turned out much worse, but it didn't.  Be thankful for that."

"O-okay," Cloud nodded, though he still looked spooked.  If Sephiroth hadn't seen them fall in, Riku may have drowned.  He wrung the water out of his hair.  Due to the direction it was spiked in, most of his hair fell down to the right when it was wet, making it look longer on that side.

"Go home and dry yourself off," Sephiroth said.  "If you stay wet like that, you may catch a chill."

Cloud left for home only after he had made absolutely sure Riku wasn't in any danger.  He felt that it was his fault that they had fallen in, and he needed to be totally convinced that he hadn't inadvertently hurt Riku.

"Come on, Son," Sephiroth said, still holding the shivering Riku.  "Let's go home.  You may get sick, but I doubt there will be any lasting consequences to this."

Riku nodded, holding onto his father as they headed home.  He probably could have flown at his father's side without any help, but he was absolutely freezing.  Sephiroth's warm body and firm hold brought some relief to him, however, and he chose to stay in his arms for the trip home.  His desire to warm up was stronger than his desire to look strong and self-reliant.  He could give up his dignity for a while.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku ran his fingers through his hair as he walked slowly down the central hallway, straightening it.  He wondered what Sora and Kairi would think if they saw him.  He hadn't cut his hair since coming to the One World, and it was much longer now.  It fell stick-straight midway down his back, and his bangs had all but disappeared, as he had taken to combing them to the side in with the rest of his hair.

His hair was exactly like his father's, not just in color. He had the same fine, soft, thick hair as his father, and it shown nearly white in direct sunlight.  He doubted he'd let it get as long as Sephiroth had, though.

_I wonder how long I'll let it grow_, Riku mused.  _Maybe I'll just decide one day that I like the length and keep it there._

His thoughts traveled back a few moments and landed again on Sora and Kairi.  He hadn't seen them in over a year and a half, which was somewhere around six or seven years in the Destiny Islands.  The two would be in their mid-twenties by now.  He wondered how they were getting along.  Where they still a couple?  If they were, were they married?  Did they have a child?  Or children?

Riku almost choked at the thought.  Sora and Kairi with kids?  Worse yet, kids with each other?  Kairi's influence on the kids wouldn't be so bad, but if they were like Sora had been in his early years, they were busy being holy terrors to the neighborhood around them.  Their parents would have their hands full.

_I wonder how the others are_, Riku thought, sobering some.  Their main group had been composed of himself, Sora, Kairi, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka.  Was the gang still close?  How was each individual getting along?  What about all their other friends?  Had Selphie made up her mind between Tidus and Wakka, or had she pursued someone else, instead?

As his mind flooded with these and so many other questions, he felt a rolling feeling of nostalgia move through him.  He hadn't visited home at all since coming to the One World.  He hadn't even made contact.  The One World was where he belonged, but some parts of him would always consider the Destiny Islands to be home.  The people he had grown up with were all there, and he had so many memories, good and bad, of his years spent there.  Even when he had been consumed with a desire to explore, he knew he would never forget the islands.  As he had said to Sora, he may never have been able to come back, but home would always be in his heart.

_Maybe I should visit soon_, he thought, but another thought came right on the heels of that one.  _Can I visit?  Is it allowed for trainees to leave?  It could and probably would detract from my training time.  Sure, it's over forty human years, but the ylfen take their training very seriously.  Leaving for a period may be taken as me saying I don't think it's important enough to stay diligent to.  There may even be rules against trainees leaving home before their training is up.  I have to find this out sometime soon, before too much time goes by._

As he thought, he had traveled down the central hallway further than he normally went.  He wasn't as familiar with this part of the house as he was with the rest.  In fact, now that he thought about it, no one normally came down this far, except for perhaps Sephiroth.  Maybe this was the direction his bedroom lied in.  Riku realized that he had never been in his father's bedroom or even knew where it was.

_I haven't seen Father at all today, either_, he thought.  _Today is over half over, too._

He got to the very end of the hallway, further than he had ever gone.  He realized that it turned at a ninety-degree angle to the right, the turn not easily seen from further than a few feet from the end.  The branch-off continued deeper into the cliff about thirty feet, and the short hall ended at a double door.  Walking closer, he saw that the wood of the door was embossed, a delicate design of vines and leaves lined with crimson paint carved gracefully into the dark wood.  The doorknobs were polished and bright, like most of the metal in the house, but they looked like brass instead of chrome.

Curious, he stood inches away from the door and listened intently.  Even though the most used part of the house was on the other end of the central hallway, and his hearing wasn't impaired by any noise coming from it or the outside, he could hear nothing through the doors.  Perhaps his father wasn't in there, or the wood was too thick to allow sound through.  Also, he still wasn't sure that this was his father's room.

Hesitating a moment, he knocked on the right-hand door.  The doors were solid and strong, according to the sound of his knuckles against it.  The knock echoed faintly in the hallway behind him as he waited.  No one came.  He knocked again and waited longer, and still no one answered.

A tiny part of his mind told him to leave these doors alone and not go snooping.  It felt like a part of his danger sense, but it was very faint and weak.  His curiosity scoffed at it, and he nodded to himself as he decided to see what was on the other side.  These doors were different in design and decidedly more foreboding than the rest of the doors in the house.  Something other than an ordinary room was bound to be on the other side.

He would come to curse his powerful curiosity.

The doorknob turned with barely a squeak, and the door swung open with no sound at all.  He stood there a moment, waiting for anyone who may be inside to react to his presence, but nothing came.  He stepped inside, careful not to make no noise himself, though he wasn't exactly sure why.  The door, however, decided to swing shut behind him.  The click sounded like a clang in the silence, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  Taking a few minutes to calm himself again, he looked around.

It was a small sitting room.  The room's theme was warm colors:  red, yellow, and brown, mostly red.  The soft light from the lamps along the wall glinted off the smooth surface of the polished wood and glittered in the brass of the knobs on the ends of the arms of the chairs.  In the center of the room was a small round table with two chairs, one on each side of it.  The table was probably used for tea or small meals.  Against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the door was a bookcase with many books, and two other chairs identical to the ones at the table were near the bookcase.  Perhaps those chairs were pulled up to the table if more than two people were going to sit down to tea.  A red rug covered the floor, and a few smaller tables were around the room periphery with things like small plants or table ornaments on them.  One wall had a large mirror on it, making the room appear bigger, and the other three walls had a scattering of artwork hung on them.  The entire room had a cozy, warm feel to it.

However, though everything appeared polished and dusted, and a regular cleaning was apparently given the room, he had a very distinct impression that no one had used this room for the purpose it had been made for in a very long time.  He felt like he was in a display of a sitting room made to give people a look into a less familiar lifestyle.  The sensation was strange, and he had no way to explain it.

_This whole room feels…forgotten_, he thought, _empty._

He realized that there was another doorway at the back of the room on the left side.  The double doors were identical to the doors that led to the hallway.  One stood ajar.

His ever-curious mind compelled him to go through, though something in his heart pleaded with him to go back.  _You're intruding here!_ it cried.  _You're going to get in trouble!_

Not listening, he pushed the door all the way open.  It was a bedroom on the other side.

_This is the master bedroom_, he recognized.  _This is Father's room.  So, I was right after all._

This room was predominantly red, even more so than the sitting room.  A large bed with crimson covers and a deep-brown frame stood furthest away from the door, and the part of the room closer to Riku was furnished with a set up much like the table and chairs in the sitting room.  He walked further into the room, looking around.  It seemed more used than the sitting room, though something about it suggested that it hadn't been altered at all for at least as long as the sitting room had stood unused.

_So many memories were made in this room_, he thought, a brief flush of embarrassment coming to his cheeks when he realized what kind of "memories" were most likely made in that bed.  _And, then, they just…stopped.  The memories ceased to be made._

Something caught his eye.  There was a painting on the wall where it could be seen as one sat up in bed.  Walking toward it, he realized it was of Sephiroth and Wenna.  The painting was pretty good-sized, the ends about two feet long and the sides about three feet long.  In it, the two lovers stood, Sephiroth behind Wenna, his arms around her.  Neither was looking out at the viewer.  Sephiroth's half-mast eyes gazed down at her, a soft smile on his face, and even in the flatness of paint, Riku could see the indulgent adoration he held for her.  Wenna's body was not turned toward him, though her head was turned to the side, her cheek pressed against his chest, eyes closed in complete trust.  Her right hand was about level with her face, idly playing with an errant bit of her mate's hair.  Her left hand was caught in his right at her waist, their fingers meshed together.  His left arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against him in a possessive but not exactly jealous fashion.  She was substantially shorter than him, the top of her head not even reaching his collarbone.

Riku slowly approached the painting, as if cautious.  It was breathtaking.  The resemblance to life was astounding, and he found himself wondering who did it.

Without exactly knowing why, he removed one of his gloves and reached up toward the painting.  The back of his mind said that skin oils could damage paints, but he nevertheless laid his palm flat against the surface.  He could feel the rough smoothness of dried paint, but the sensation was quickly drowned out by a flood of…of…_something_ pouring into his mind.  He jumped in surprise and nearly drew his hand away, but he refrained from doing so.  He somehow knew that his touching the painting was responsible for the unexpected thoughts, and he wanted to figure out what they were.

After several moments of just staring at the painting, he was finally able to separate the individual sensations and sort them out.  These were emotions he was feeling.  They weren't just any emotions, but the emotions that the two people in the painting harbored for each other and freely shared between them.  Love, intense love, was the core of it all, but there where many others surrounding and piercing into the love, threading them all together and weaving them into one intricate tapestry of feeling and thought.  There was affection, devotion, protectiveness, concern, tenderness, understanding, compassion, and many more like that.  He blushed deeply when he also recognized a powerful physical need for each other.

Wincing, he laid his other hand on his chest, over his heart.  On the heels of all the positive emotions these two felt for each other, another totally different mixture of feelings bombarded his senses.  Terror, pain, devastation, grief, loneliness, helplessness…somehow, he knew that this was what Sephiroth's tortured mind, heart, and soul had been forced to endure for months after Wenna's sudden and cruel death.

_Why am I sensing these things?_ he asked himself, confused.  _Why can I—_

There was a noise behind him.  It sounded like someone exhaling with a soft groan.  He whirled around in surprise.  The bed was about three or four feet from the wall on the side farthest from the door, and he saw someone that he hadn't noticed before crouching in that space, facing mostly away from him.  It was Sephiroth, but the way he held himself didn't look right.  He was balancing on his toes, his bent knees almost touching the floor, and one hand was in front of him with the fingertips on the floor, giving him more stability.  His back was arched, his shoulders slumped, and through his hair, Riku could tell that he had no shirt on.  In fact, he appeared to be wearing only pants.  The blue-and-black wing was held in a half-extended position, and it appeared taut.  His long silver hair covered him like a shroud, flowing over his lithe body like a liquid and pooling around him on the red carpet.  He was holding himself very stiffly, and he swayed slowly back and forth, as if keeping time with something.

Alarm bells went off in Riku's head.  Something was not right.  His father was emanating a very unsettling feeling, almost like an aura.

_I have to leave!_ Riku screamed at himself, suddenly frightened.  _I should never have come here!_  Quickly, he turned to go toward the door as quietly as he could, but Lady Luck was no longer on his side.  He inadvertently kicked the leg of a desk that he hadn't noticed before, making a vase of flowers on it rattle an inch over the surface.

Sephiroth's rigid figure came to life, and he rose up and turned at the same time.  At the same time, Riku turned to see if his father had heard, and found Sephiroth looking at him.  He saw burning green eyes staring out through a curtain of silver strands, and as soon as their eyes met, the vertical pupils narrowed to mere lines of black, the glitter deep in the irises flaring up brightly.  Riku found himself unable to move.

"What do you want?" Sephiroth asked, his voice very low as he turned completely to face his son.

"N-nothing," Riku stammered, feeling fear well up in his heart.

"What are you doing in here?"  Sephiroth's volume was rising, but so was the rage in his voice and eyes.

"I-I was c-curious!" Riku answered, his teeth close to chattering.  Sephiroth was acting very strangely.  "I-I d-didn't know what was in here!"  He was going toward the door, but he didn't want to turn his back on Sephiroth, afraid of an attack.  He backed into a chair and stumbled.

"_No one comes in here!_" Sephiroth suddenly roared, springing forward at Riku.  "_No one!  You're not welcome in here!_"

Riku cried out in dismay and tried to flee, but he had forgotten about the chair just behind him, and he ran into it again and fell awkwardly to the floor.

Sephiroth was upon him, and just as he realized this, a fist rammed hard into the side of his face, knocking him completely down and making his head bang hard against the floor.  Bright lights and black spots exploded in his vision from the impact, and the world spun.

"_Get out!_" Sephiroth was shrieking, gripping Riku's shirt and hauling him up.  "_GET OUT!!!_"  His cry drew out into an animalistic howl as he literally threw Riku out the door into the sitting room.

Riku landed gracelessly on his feet and was just barely able to keep from falling again.  His heart pounding in terror, his head still swimming, he stumbled clumsily toward the door, knowing that his father would attack again if given the chance.  He yanked the door to the hallway open again and bolted out, a final scream of _get out_ reverberating after him.

He ran blindly down the central hallway, not watching where he was going.  He got nearly to the outside when he suddenly ran right into Darius as he came walking in the opposite direction, almost bowling him over.

"Whoa, Riku!" he exclaimed when he regained his balance, holding onto Riku's shoulders to steady him.  He grew concerned when he saw the panicky look on his little brother's face.  "Hey, come on into the living room," he said gently, not wishing to aggravate whatever was ailing Riku.  He helped him sit down on the sofa when they got in the room.

"What's going on?" Samara asked, looking up from the jigsaw she was trying to solve.

"That's what I want to know," Darius said.  He made Riku look at him.  "What happened?  Can you tell us?"

In a shaky voice, gradually calming down, Riku related what all had happened, going from reaching the end of the hallway to being run out by a seemingly possessed Sephiroth.

"You were right, Darius," Samara said softly when Riku finished.  "He is going into one of his spells.  No wonder we haven't seen him at all today."

"Spells?" Riku asked, now mostly over his fright, though still feeling a deep sense of dread at what he had seen.  "You mean he's—"

"Yes, he's in another of his periods of madness," Darius sighed.  "Your sister and I suspected it, but we weren't sure.  What just happened to you confirms out suspicions."  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache.  "Damn, I wish we had told you what we were thinking.  You may have been more cautious."

"You probably wouldn't have made that mistake, either," Samara said.

"Mistake?" Riku asked, puzzled.  "What mistake?"

Darius sighed again, more deeply.  "I don't know why no one told you this.  You should have heard it right from the start.  I supposed Samara and I assumed Father would tell you, and I don't know why he didn't.  Those two rooms are Father's inner sanctum, especially the bedroom.  It belonged, of course, to him and Mother, and while she was alive, Samara and I were allowed to go in.  We of course had to knock first and wait to be told to enter, because you can't just go barging into your parents' personal space uninvited and unannounced.  Family members and close friends were also often brought into at least the sitting room for tea or conversation.  However, since Mother died, it has been where he goes to remember her.  No one, and I mean _no one_, is allowed in there at all anymore.  I believe he's kept the rooms exactly the way they were when she was alive.  In his fractured reasoning, someone besides him setting foot in there is blasphemous toward her memory, and I doubt even he goes in there without a certain amount of respect, almost as if he believes her ghost to dwell in there, watching everything he does."

"You going in there would have been bad enough, had he been of normal state of mind," Samara added.  "He would have gotten very angry with you and shooed you out as quickly as he could.  But, since he's entered another of his spells, his reaction was even worse.  I have a feeling he didn't really even recognize you."

"He didn't seem to," Riku nodded slowly.  "He was like…I don't know…God, he _scared_ me!"

"I'm sure he did," Darius said, his voice sympathetic.  "Be glad you came away with only a few bruises."

Riku nodded again, staring down at his hands.  One was still bare, and he drew his glove out of his pocket and put it back on.  He was lucky he had stuffed it into his pocket, or he may have lost it for who knows how long.  "The rooms had a feeling," he said, "of disuse.  They weren't dusty or stale, in fact very well kept, but they seemed to be telling me that nothing had been altered in years and years.  The sitting room seemed totally unchanged and unused, and the bedroom was little better.  It's as if he only used the bed in there to sleep in and perhaps to sit on and think.  It was almost surreal."

Samara looked sad.  "I think he's desperately trying to keep a hold of her," she said.  "I think he thinks that, if everything stays exactly as it was while she still lived, that she would never truly go away and leave him."  She shook his head.  "Her spirit has long since left this world.  He's clutching at straws.  He has been for centuries."

The living room fell silent.  Only the ticking of the clock on the wall was heard for several long minutes until Riku spoke again.

"I felt two other things," he said with a nearly timid tone.  "I don't understand how, but I did.  One was that many irreplaceable memories were made in that room, but they suddenly stopped at one point long ago, and none have been made since."

"Well," Darius said, "Samara and I were born in that bed, and it's where both of us spent most of the first few months of our lives.  While we were growing up, we played in there as often as we played in our own bedrooms and the rest of the house.  Perhaps that's what you mean.  Also, Mother and Father were of course soulmates, thus their need to be together sexually was rather high.  That being their bedroom, it was where they most often made love.  You could also mean that."

Riku blushed.  He probably wouldn't have put it that bluntly, though he knew of several other more explicit ways of saying it than Darius had used.  "Yeah, I thought of that, too."

"What was the other thing you felt?" Samara asked.

"Oh," Riku said, "well…it's really strange.  On the wall by the foot of the bed, there was a beautifully done portrait of Father and your mother.  I don't know why, but I was drawn toward it and compelled to touch it.  When I did, my mind was flooded with feelings and emotions that weren't my own.  I finally realized that they were the emotions that Father and your mother felt for and shared with each other."

"That painting is very precious to Father," Samara nodded, "as it was to Mother while she lived.  She painted it herself, and she considered it her highest masterpiece.  She labored for months on it, taking every single care she could to make everything in it perfect.  Everything was painted from memory, without any models.  I mean, she looked at Father every day, but he never posed for the picture, and there was also the deal of getting herself to look right."

"She finished it as her pregnancy with Samara was beginning to show," Darius continued.  "I remember seeing her lay down her brush when she finished and just bursting into tears.  She was so happy that she had finally finished it and that it had turned out as perfectly as it did."

"So, that painting was a gift to Father and herself?" Riku asked, and they nodded.  "It's the keepsake from her life that he values the most, then, because she put so much time and effort into it."

"Yes," Samara affirmed.

"You said you felt the emotions they held for each other when you touched it?" Darius asked.

"Yeah," Riku said.

His brother and sister looked at each other, as if sharing a single thought.

"What?" Riku asked.  "What does it mean?"

"We don't know yet," Darius said.  "We have a suspicion, but we have no way of proving whether it's right or wrong."

"Let me guess," Riku said blandly.  "You're not going to tell me, right, in case you're way off?"  He sighed, disappointed, when they both nodded.  Not only was his curiosity banefully strong, his imagination was vivid almost to levels of insaneness.  It would have a field day with this, he was sure.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Hmm…I'm splitting the idea up for this chapter into two chapters, because it's getting longer than I expected.  I'm trying not to bother about chapter lengths much, but I don't want them to get _too_ long.  So, chapter eight will be the second part of what I had planned for chapter seven, with what I had planned for chapter eight moving back to chapter nine.  Luckily, this doesn't mess up my plans, because chapter eight was the last chapter I have anything specific planned for, so I'm only bumping back one chapter's events.  I have to take the time to plan out how I want to structure the events of the next few (or next several) chapters, and I hope that won't take very long.  Hopefully a half-hour to an hour at the most.  I don't know how long this fic will be at the moment, but that will probably be figured out soon.  I know what I want to happen and how I want the fic to end, but I haven't decided what to group together into this chapter or that chapter.  Anyway, enough prattle.  I hope you all liked this chapter.  I don't know if I described the feelings Riku got in the sitting room and bedroom well, or Sephiroth's fury at finding him in there.  Did I?  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

I also have a request.  I'd like you guys to wish me luck in finding work.  I've been job-hunting for months, and I've been having absolutely no luck.  I know the economy is bad (I curse the Bush administration!), and it's making it even harder for me and everyone else to find jobs.  So, I'd appreciate it if at least some of you would wish me well.  My confidence and spirit are faltering, and I could use a little encouragement.  Thanks.


	8. Touching Madness, Tasting Hatred

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Eight:  Touching Madness, Tasting Hatred 

Riku landed on the veranda harder than he was wont to do, stumbling forward and falling to his hands and knees.  He was exhausted, worn out by a duel he had just had with his brother.  While their father was…occupied…Darius, Samara, and Cloud had taken his place as Riku's trainers.  Riku had gotten used to coming home like this at least once every three days, since his father, though not over-expectant, did keep Riku very much on his toes with training that was neither easy nor slow.  His siblings and Cloud were a little easier on him, but that spar with Darius—which Riku lost due to inexperience and relative lack of endurance—had drained him almost completely.  He had just enough energy left to get home on his own.

He sat back on his knees, sitting a little hunched, to catch his breath.  He was wearing just a pair of long shorts that went down to about his knees.  His skin was slicked with sweat, and his hair and feathers felt heavy and damp.  The wind blowing through the canyon quickly evaporated the sweat from his skin, making him shiver.

As usual, Riku had taken his daily training in the Stretch.  The Stretch was a large piece of land much like the Wilds, but it was protected by Aerie's barrier as it stretched out on both sides of the canyon adjacent to the farmlands and almost exactly opposite the main gate situated near one end of the city.  It was used for many things, such as training children and nature outings.  Ylfen loved the land, and they wanted some of the wilderness to be safe for them to wander without fear and immerse themselves in the natural flora and fauna of their region.  Because of the barrier, kitschen couldn't get in.  Wild beasts could pass through, as with the other parts of the barrier, but they were rarely a danger to ylfen unless they felt threatened.  Even hunting predators rarely attacked, intimidated by these one-winged animals that stood on two legs and wielded sharp things and bright bursts of painful light.  If an ylfe was slow and quiet and made themselves unthreatening, they may be able to approach a wild animal, but interference with the animal life wasn't often attempted, as an unspoken rule.

The Stretch was a large area, bigger than the farmlands.  It had woods and green fields, mostly, and small rivers and lakes wound through and dotted the landscape.  All the rivers eventually ended in waterfalls into the canyon, and several small niches had been carved out of the limestone base of the land by the rushing waters.  It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and Riku had grown to love the serenity it could give him, when he wasn't training there, at any rate.  He had been told that all the large cities had areas like this branching off of them, though he hadn't been outside Aerie since he came here from the Destiny Islands.

He smoothed his hair back behind his ears.  He'd like to visit other places on the One World when he got the chance.  He'd been told of other canyon cities, as well as cities in the trees and dug into mountainsides.  Apparently, ylfen liked to use the natural landscape as the foundations for their settlements.

"There you are," he heard Samara say, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at the front door.  His sister had come out to greet him.  She, Darius, and Cloud had gone home before Riku, leaving him behind and making him come at his own speed.

"Here I am," he replied, standing slowly.  "I'm sore, though."

"I'm sorry," Samara said.  "You gave Darius quite a fight, though, until you ran out of energy."

"Yeah, right," Riku muttered.  "I'm not that good yet."

"No, I'm serious," she insisted.  "He had trouble just keeping up to you, and you're slippery even when he did get you."

Riku shrugged, entering the front room.  "Where is he?"

"In his room, I imagine," she said.  "He's nursing some bad bruises.  You have a killer punch."

"I guess so," he said.  "Sora swears I almost broke his nose when he knocked my sword out of my hand on the beach once.  I wasn't about to let that scrawny little beanstalk beat me that easy."

Samara giggled, then ushered him into the hallway.  "Go clean up.  You need to relax after that duel."

Riku nodded and continued down the hall with a short wave.  He was nursing some nasty bruises, as well, and he felt grimy from the dried sweat and dirt on his skin.  He needed a bath, not to mention he had to keep one hand on the wall to avoid tripping over his own feet and falling.

He stopped a moment halfway to his room, rubbing gingerly at his back.  He had fallen flat on his back from several feet in the air near the end of the fight, and the trunk of his body was stiff and sore.

His mental training thus far had largely been detecting the presence of someone he could not yet see.  He couldn't yet differentiate between people, but he could get a faint impression of another being now without putting an effort out.  Now, someone was coming down the hall in the opposite direction that he was going.  It was Darius, Riku thought.  He continued down the hallway after arching his back briefly in an abbreviated stretch.

No footsteps could be heard beside his own.  He walked softly, and it was difficult to hear him even in the silence of the hallway.

The person coming toward him came into sight.  When Riku saw him, he froze in his tracks.

It was Sephiroth.  It had been a week since the blowup in Sephiroth's room, and Riku hadn't seen him since.  In fact, no one had seen him since.  The sight of him brought immediately to mind the mad, murderous look in his eyes when he attacked his son, and Riku felt his blood run cold.  What if he attacked again?!

He didn't dare turn and run, though the urge to bolt was welling up inside him.  If Sephiroth was mad, signs of fear may provoke him into attacking where he would otherwise be docile.  All Riku allowed himself to do was swallow hard and wait for his father to pass by.

Sephiroth was leaning slightly forward, his head down, making his hair obscure his face.  About ten feet from Riku, he suddenly stopped and straightened up, brushing his hair quickly back from his face.  His eyelids were half-closed, and he looked exhausted.  His eyes were reddened, and dark circles marred his smooth pale skin.  Otherwise, he looked very calm, almost detached.  His expression and his relaxed posture told Riku it was probably okay to approach, but he couldn't make any sudden moves.

"Father?" he asked cautiously.  "Are you okay?"  He had taken slow, careful steps forward, making sure not to meet his father's eyes, in case that was taken as an intimidation attempt.  He was aware he was acting as if he were approaching a hostile animal, but he didn't know how to handle this, so he may as well not take any risks.

Sephiroth tilted his head, regarding his son.  His expression didn't change save for a slight furrowing of his thin eyebrows, as if he was thinking.

Riku was right in front of him, now, and he hazarded a direct look into Sephiroth's face.  His father blinked at him, but otherwise made no movements.  There was still an unsettling quality to the glow in his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as intense as it was a week ago when he caught Riku intruding in his private sanctum.

"Riku…" Sephiroth finally said, as if recognizing him from some distant memory.

"Yes," Riku said, nodding slowly.  "Are you okay, Father?"  As he repeated his question, he reached up toward his father's face.  It was half a reflexive motion, and he didn't know why he was doing it.

"Father…" Sephiroth repeated, looking down as if trying to register the word.  "Oh, yes…" he muttered, nodding slightly.  His thought process seemed to be severely slowed down.  He was definitely detached.

"Yeah," Riku said just as quietly, nodding again.

Without warning, Sephiroth suddenly took a hold of Riku's hair, and before the boy could react, pulled him forward by the head.  Riku yelped and stiffened, but all Sephiroth did was lower his head down to the slightly shorter Riku's level and touch their foreheads lightly together.

Riku blinked, his heart beating quickly.  That sudden movement had scared him, and he had been afraid that Sephiroth had again determined him someone to deal with as an enemy.

For several minutes, they stood very still.  Riku felt his father probing into his mind, but he felt no aggressiveness, so he didn't resist.  Though, when Sephiroth suddenly touched the inner part of his mind, the most private and inviolable part, Riku instinctively recoiled, a pained shiver rolling through his body as he whimpered softly.  Sephiroth retreated then, and let go of his son a moment later.

"I see," Sephiroth said quietly, opening his eyes.

"What?" Riku asked, trying to calm his heart.  "You see what?"

Puzzlingly, instead of answering, Sephiroth took a hold of the hand that Riku hadn't yet lowered, and grasped one finger of his glove.  Slowly, as if peeling the wrapping off of a fragile object, he pulled the glove completely off, revealing the pale, thin hand underneath.  Still not speaking, he laid the almost girlish hand against his cheek, holding it there with his own hand.

Suddenly, exactly like when he had touched the painting in his father's room, Riku felt a flood of emotions stab into his mind.  He gasped and staggered, grabbing onto Sephiroth's upper arm to keep standing.  Mercifully, Sephiroth let him go after only a few seconds, cutting the flow of emotions off.

"G-good Lord!" Riku stammered.  "What was _that_?!"

Sephiroth said nothing, only turning around and going back the way he came.

"_What was that?!_" Riku asked again, more forcefully.  "Tell me, damn it!"

Still no answer.

"Father!" Riku said, following after him, trying a different tactic to get him speaking again.  "You never answered my question.  Are you all right?"

His father stopped again and looked back at his son, and Riku thought the dull sheen of madness retreated for a moment, replaced by unfathomable sadness.  "Please, leave me be, Son," he whispered.  Without another word, he turned his back on Riku again and continued walking.

"Wait!" Riku cried, disturbed by the sudden change in Sephiroth's eyes.  "Father—!"  As he grabbed his father's elbow to hold him back, there was abruptly nothing to grab.  Sephiroth had disappeared, teleporting back to his sanctuary.

"Oh, Father," Riku murmured, as if Sephiroth could hear him.  That look in his eyes had troubled him even more than the emotions pouring into his mind.  His right hand was on his heart in a loose fist, feeling the strong beat through the wall of his skin, muscle, and bone.  "I'm here if you need me.  Always."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days later…

"Riku, are you okay?" came Samara's voice through his door.  "You've been so pensive the last few days."

"I'm fine," Riku answered.  He was sitting on his unmade bed, his back against the wall.  A book was in his hands, and though he had been trying to read it to get his mind off of things, he was largely ignoring it.

There was a pause.  "May I come in?" his sister finally asked.

"Go ahead," he said.

Samara came through the door, closing it again behind her.  "Is there something wrong?" she asked.  "Something on your mind?  You can discuss it with me or our brother whenever you'd like, you know."

"I know," Riku nodded.  He sighed.  "I just wanted some time to myself, that's all."

"I don't think that's all," Samara said, sitting down next to him.

Riku didn't answer.

"Something's troubling you," she said, "and I want to know what.  If you just bottle it up like this, it'll just hurt more in the future.  I won't force you to talk, but those are my thoughts on the subject."

He sighed deeply, closing the book and putting it to one side.  "Samara, tell me about our father."

She blinked, surprised.  "What do you mean?"

"What kind of man is he?" Riku asked.  "What has happened to him?"

"I thought Darius and I already explained that as best we could," Samara said slowly.

"I know," he nodded.  "What I mean is…" he sighed again "…God, I don't know.  I don't even know what I'm asking right now."

"Has something happened?" she asked.

"I feel like my head is on backwards," he said, rubbing at his eyes as if sleepy.  "I feel like I'm floating in total darkness.  You know what I mean?"

"I think so, yes," she nodded.  "Everyone feels like that at one time or another, I guess."

Again, he sighed.  "I'm so confused…I don't know what to think of him.  I've seen so many sides of him, and I can't decide for the life of me which is the real him."

"I don't think any side of him is 'the real him'," Samara said.  "He has so many facets to himself, and his mood and personality can change in the blink of an eye, even when he's 'sane'.  It's hard to say which is his 'normal' self."

"What was he like when your mother was still alive?" Riku asked after another pause.

"Before Mother died?" she asked, thinking.  "He had none of the mood swings that he's prone to now.  He had strong emotions, but he knew how to deal with them in a healthy way.  I don't remember him having any mental breakdowns before Mother died.  He seemed to be an aloof and uncaring man to people who didn't know him, but to those he cared about, he was very warm and open.  Killing was, to him, uncivilized, so he only did so when absolutely necessary, and he never brought home anything from his kills as trophies.  He saw that as disrespectful to the life he had just ended.  Even kitschen rarely met their deaths at his hands."

"He said something similar to me in the Destiny Islands," Riku said.  "I had asked why he hadn't just killed my mother once I was born and brought me back with him if it hurt so much to leave me with her.  He said that he hated killing, though he had killed many in his lifetime."

"Those many that he killed," Samara said slowly, "have almost all been since Mother died.  A fight with him is more dangerous, not only because of his massive power, but because he's less careful in battle now.  He may execute an attack without even thinking that it may be too much for his opponent to handle if hit.  Darius and I attend your training sessions with him not just to watch, but to make sure you aren't overwhelmed and hurt.  He cares a lot about you, but me may grow careless if he doesn't pay attention."

"What about the humans he killed?" Riku asked.  "He said he's killed humans as well."

"I honestly don't know," Samara answered.  "Darius and I know little of what he does when he goes to the Many Worlds.  All we know is what he tells us.  You'll want to ask him for an explanation, but it wouldn't be a good idea until he's back to normal."

Riku nodded.

"The kitschen get most of his hate," Samara said softly.  "He used to pay them little heed unless he encountered some in the Wilds, but now he deliberately hunts them down."

"I understand," Riku said.  "It's a never-ending revenge for torturing and murdering his soulmate."

"Besides his insanity," Samara continued, "his loathing for the kitschen has shaped his current self more than anything else."  She suddenly stood.  "There's something I would like to show you, Riku," she said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just come see," she told him, going toward the door.  "It may help you understand a little of what's going on in his head."

"Okay," Riku said, then stood up and followed her.

Several doors down the hallway, she stopped.  "This may surprise you," she warned.  "Just don't inhale too deeply."  She grasped the doorknob and turned it.  It opened with a creak, as if it wasn't used often.

Puzzled at her last comment, Riku stepped inside the dark room.  He immediately understood when the smell of dead matter and dried blood hit his nostrils, causing him to cover his mouth and nose in disgust.

At Samara's command, the lamps in the room sprang to life, lighting the place up.  It looked like a storage room, shelves lining the walls from ceiling to floor.  On the shelves were the sources of the smell.  Packed onto the shelves were scores of smallish skulls, the black holes of their eyes seeming to stare at him.  Scores more littered the floor in a disorganized heap, too many to all go on the shelves on the walls.  None were the bleached white that you see in museum skeletons.  They were stained deep red and brown, and he knew immediately that they hadn't been washed once denuded of flesh.  They were coated with dried blood.  Black patches could be seen on some, and he guessed that they were strips of tissue that hadn't completely come off.

"Oh, my God…" Riku muttered, feeling bile rise in his throat.

"Every year," Samara explained softly, "on the anniversary of her death, he catches and kills a kitsche and brings its head back here.  He would rather hunt them all down and exterminate their whole species, but ylfe creed declares it against the law to interfere with the natural order of things.  So, he must restrain himself and be more precise in his revenge."

Riku slowly knelt down near the pile of skulls and reached for the nearest one.  When he touched it, he had a vision of his father, his clothes stained with much blood, ripping the head off of an unrecognizable dead thing, stripping all flesh from the bone, including the inside of the mouth, digging the eyes out of the sockets and the brain out through the hole for the spinal cord, and then leaving the rest of the body parts and taking the skull with him as he leaves.

He jerked his hand back, horrified.  He felt a cold, sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, and he backed slowly away, feeling like he was about to throw up.

"I'm sorry for showing you this, Riku," Samara said sadly as he stumbled back up to his feet, "but you have a right to know."

"He really is mad, isn't he…?" Riku asked, shivering.

Samara nodded.

"Hey," Darius said, poking his head in the room.  "What are you two doing in here?"

"I'm showing it to Riku so he has a better understanding of Father," Samara said, ushering her little brother out the door and into the hall.  "Or, at least one side of him."  She made the lamps go out and closed the door.

"Are you okay, Riku?" Darius asked.  "You look green."

"I'm fine," Riku said a little hoarsely.  "I just need cold water.  That helps an upset stomach."

Darius nodded, then muttered something under his breath too quietly for Riku to catch.  The smell of blood and death suddenly vanished from the air.  A deodorizing spell.

"I was down near the end of the hall a few minutes ago," Darius said, "and I heard something through the door to the red rooms."  Sephiroth's bedroom and the adjacent sitting room were often referred to as "the red rooms".

"What was it?" Riku asked.

"Well…" Darius said, "…I guess there's no other way to accurately describe it.  Father appears to be having a psychotic episode."

"He what?!" Riku gasped, the words sending a chill down his spine.  "What did you hear?!"

"It was this long, animal-like scream," Darius said slowly.  "It sometimes happens during his crazy spells, though it's much rarer than the other ways his madness tends to manifest itself.  He's usually quiet and disconnected, almost catatonic sometimes."

"Let's hope he stays in those rooms," Samara said.  "He'll be very dangerous if he comes out before he's calmed down."

"What the _hell_ are you two talking about?!" Riku cried, disturbed by the casual way they seemed to be taking this.  "Darius, you did _nothing_?!  What if he hurts himself?!  What if he _dies_ because no one went to check on him?!"

"Riku, walking into those rooms when he's sane is bad enough," Darius explained.  "Going in when he's in one of his spells is even worse, as you saw for yourself.  Going in when he's like this is like kicking a bear cub in front of its mother!  If I had checked on him, I'd probably be dead right now!"

"This sounds horrible, I know," Samara said, "but death will be a mercy to him, if it comes to that."

Riku was shaking, his rage tight in his chest.  He wanted to scream so badly, but instead, he turned toward the end of the hallway and took off.

"Riku, wait!" Darius cried, grabbing his wrist and halting his progress.

"Let me go!" Riku roared, and he punched Darius hard enough to make him reel backwards before he really knew what he was doing.  Without waiting a second, he continued down the hallway.

"Father!" he cried, bursting through the doors to the sitting room.  He stopped dead in his tracks when a shriek suddenly came from the open doors to the bedroom.  It was long and agonized, as if had been torn from the deepest pit in the deepest part of Hell, uttered by the worst of the damned in their eternal torment.  Fear flooded Riku's being, and he couldn't move or speak for several moments after that cry had faded into an eerie silence.  Finally, he was able to quell his trembling.

"Riku!" Darius said in an urgent whisper.  He and Samara were in the doorway.  "Get back here!  Do you want to die?!"

Riku ignored him and went toward the bedroom doors.

"Riku!" Darius and Samara hissed at the same time, but Riku paid them no heed.  Steeling himself, he stepped through the double doors.

His father was sprawled out on the bed, half-facedown, his long hair strewn everywhere.  Even from across the room, Riku could see he was shaking badly, and he twitched every few seconds, as if electricity was being passed through him at regular intervals.  Riku couldn't see his face, but the long, slow, quivering breathing suggested that he was crying.

His danger sense screaming, Riku went forward, his need to see if Sephiroth was all right outdoing his fear.  When he was a few feet from the bed, Sephiroth's body suddenly spasmed violently, making him roll over onto his back with one jerk.  He gave a hoarse yell, not nearly as bone-shattering as the scream he had given earlier, but still enough to chill Riku's blood.  He was indeed crying, his face wet with tears.

Sephiroth saw Riku.

"_You…_" Sephiroth said, his voice low and dangerous.  He rolled back over to his front and pushed himself up, his entire body as tense as a spring.  "You…you…_you!_"

"Father, please," Riku said, trying to keep his voice steady.  "Please, calm down.  I only wanted to check on—"

Sephiroth suddenly pounced, and Riku froze, his voice choked off.  However, his father went past him.  Before Riku could turn around to see what the deal was, the doors slammed shut.  Sephiroth had cut off Riku's escape route.  Even if he could get to the doors, Sephiroth would be on him before he could get them open.

"F-Father…?" Riku asked, getting more jumpy with every second.

"I told you to stay _out_ of here!" Sephiroth hissed, his eyes flashing.  Every part of him was shaking in rage, and Riku thought he saw a streak of red flicker through his father's eyes.

"I wanted to check on you!" Riku cried, trying to explain himself.  "I didn't know what you were doing!  I was afraid you would hurt yourself!"  Sephiroth was advancing on him, and all Riku could bring himself to do was lurch back a few steps.  He was suddenly dealt a blow to the side of his face hard enough to whip his head around.  Pain flared up in his neck from being turned almost too far, and he staggered backward and fell to the ground, stunned.

Someone was upon him, and he could feel their hot, rabid breath against his skin.  A hard hand clamped around his throat and pulled him up, squeezing his air passage nearly shut.

"_You die_," Sephiroth said quietly, but with soul-deep fury behind those words.  He picked his youngest child up like he weighed nothing and let him dangle by his neck.

"N…o…" Riku choked, unable to breathe.  He clawed at the fingers squeezing the life out of him, but they didn't budge.  Black spots were appearing in his vision, and his whole body was begging for oxygen.  Having no other options available, he kicked out hard.  His foot connected with his father's stomach.  Sephiroth dropped Riku and fell back with a pained yell.  Riku landed more or less on his feet, but couldn't support himself and fell to the floor, gasping and coughing like he had when his father had rescued him from drowning.

Sephiroth came forward again, bloody murder in his eyes.  He grabbed Riku by the collar and slammed him hard against the nearby wall.  Riku almost lost consciousness, but fought it hard, knowing that it would mean his death if he gave in.

"So, you think you can fight back, huh?" Sephiroth growled.  "You think you can desecrate her memory and then try to harm me?  _Me?!_"

"I-I was only worried about you!" Riku gritted, his whole body hurting.  "I never meant any harm!  Please, Father, let me go!"

"Shut up!" Sephiroth roared, giving Riku a shake.

"Father, stop!" a terrified voice shrieked.  It was Samara.  She and Darius had heard the commotion and come in unnoticed.  Forbidden to enter or not, they couldn't just let their little brother die at the hands of their maddened father.

"Don't come any closer, brat!" Sephiroth warned.  "If you take one step further, I'll just kill him all the quicker!"  When he looked back at Riku, their gazes met directly.  They were both looking straight into each other's eyes.

Both men stilled abruptly.

Riku gasped.  It was like he was being drawn swiftly down a long, wide tunnel with images plastered on every inch of it.  These were images of his father's early life, he realized with no small jolt of surprise.  It felt like his life was flashing before his eyes, only it wasn't his own life he was seeing.  He felt a confused montage of emotions and thoughts, ranging from a child's wonder to an adolescent's overconfidence to the highs and lows of a young adult experimenting with love and sex.

When he stopped, he found himself outside in the Stretch, all trace of pain in his body gone.  In fact, he couldn't feel anything.  There were two people nearby.

"Hey!" he cried, going toward them.  They didn't even look at him.  "HEY!"  When he got closer, he recognized them.

It was Sephiroth and Wenna!

_My God_, Riku thought.  _This is a vision.  I'm not really here.  Of course they can't hear me._

The two seemed to be seeing each other for the first time.  They were standing a few feet apart, and Wenna was smiling expectedly at Sephiroth, as if waiting for him to realize something.  Sephiroth looked no younger than he did at present, but there was a profound difference in his eyes.  They were clearer, brighter, and centuries less pained.

"You're my…!" Sephiroth finally managed to say, getting over his shock.

Wenna laughed gaily and closed the gap between them, wrapping her slender arms around his waist.  As Sephiroth returned the embrace, Riku felt love and joy wash over him, the two most prominent emotions the two were feeling.

"Their first meeting," Riku murmured to himself, watching the two.  It was odd seeing his father dressed in something that was not predominantly black.  He looked good in light blue, actually.

The scene suddenly dissolved into blackness, and Riku felt propelled inexorably forward, and he was somewhere else before he could even gasp in surprise.

He was in Sephiroth and Wenna's bedroom.  An ylfe woman that Riku had never seen before was busying herself with folding what looked like recently washed bed sheets.  Wenna was in the bed, looking completely worn out, propped up against her mate, who sat beside her on top of the bedclothes.  Sephiroth looked about as tired as Wenna, but Riku felt pride, happiness, and awe emanating from him.  He felt it from both of them, actually.  As he got closer, he saw why.  A little baby lay in Wenna's arms, nursing hungrily at one of her breasts, making little cooing noises at it suckled.  The baby had pale blond hair and a tiny wing that was an exact copy of Sephiroth's.

"Darius," Riku said, feeling a soft smile curve his lips.  Ylfe children were so rare, so precious, and he knew both parents would give their lives without a second thought to protect this fragile little creature.

The vision abruptly faded out to be replaced by a similar one.  Sephiroth and Wenna were in much the same position, but this time, an adult Darius was sitting next to them on the bed, cradling an almost identical baby with a medium-blue wing in his arms.  This was shortly after Samara's birth.

"She's so delicate," Darius whispered, and Riku could feel the same wonder coming from him as he felt from the parents.  He looked like he had never seen a baby close up, much less held one.  Given the reproductive rate of his people, that probably wasn't very far off from the truth.

Riku felt his heart ache.  There was no way his mother had been even remotely this loving and gentle with him when he had been born.  He was almost certain that he had been left entirely to the nurses to take care of while his mother recovered as quickly as possible so she could get out of that hospital.  Riku hated to admit it, but he was jealous of the close family atmosphere his siblings had grown up in.

Everything blurred around him, and he felt himself drawn down another long tunnel of images and feelings.  It felt like an invisible hand had wrapped around him and was pulling him along.  The images went by so fast that he could hardly recognize them as the peaceful, idyllic years between then and…and…

He stopped like he had slammed into a cement wall, and before he could see what was around him, he felt a potent mix of horror and rage envelop him, and he clamped his hands over his ears and sank to his knees, crying out.  He felt a creeping madness seeping into him, and all he could do was hunker down and pray for it to pass.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Riku regained his senses, and he looked up.  What he saw sickened and horrified him so much, he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away.  Twisted and mangled kitsche corpses were scattered about, and in the middle of it all knelt his father.  Clutched in his arms was a bloody, mutilated Wenna, the beautiful blue of her wing turned into a disgusting red-purple with her blood.  The arm nearest Riku was barely recognizable as an arm, large chunks of flesh missing.  Riku could see bone showing through, and the arm was lying dead at her side.

"Oh…" Riku breathed, unable to say anything else.  Even from his distance, he saw the light of life drain from her eyes, and he felt her soul scream in dismay and anger as it left the mortal plane, left her mate behind to suffer the pain of living.

Sephiroth gave a ragged sob, then let loose a piercing, anguished howl, identical to the scream Riku had heard earlier in the sitting room.  After that one shriek, he fell to the ground in a dead faint, still clutching Wenna's body.

An earsplitting shattering filled Riku's ears, and the scene around him cracked and broke into millions of pieces.  He felt himself falling, spinning downward into a vortex of grief and insanity and hate.  Half his soul had been ripped away, leaving a gaping, open wound that would never close, only fester and grow worse with each passing day, each passing hour, each passing _minute_.

Riku screamed, thrashing about in agony, tearing at his hair as if trying to dig down to his brain, to gouge out the parts that stored memory and emotion…he couldn't think he couldn't feel he was going _crazy_…

He slammed back into his body with a jerk, and he was suddenly aware again of his injuries.  Compared to the mental and emotional torments he had just experienced, however, the physical pain he felt was barely enough to be noticed.

"Riku!" his brother Darius cried, bending over him as he lay half-sitting against the wall.  "Are you all right?!"  Samara was right there with him, wringing her small hands in anxiety.

"W-what h-happened…?" Riku stammered, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind.  He finally realized that his father was in his arms, completely unconscious.  His head was against Riku's chest, almost on top of the hand that was still clutching his shirt.

"You two collapsed after freezing up," Samara explained, her normally bubbly voice weak and tremulous with fear.  "We couldn't wake either of you up, no matter what we did.  We didn't know what to do!"  She was on the verge of tears.

Darius didn't look much better, his skin white as paper.  As he spoke, it was clear he was trying very hard to sound calm.  "Riku, what happened?"

Riku's eyes grew suddenly painful as everything he had seen and felt rushed up upon him.  He didn't answer his brother's question, instead dissolving into fitful sobbing, tears streaming down his face and neck.  Stunned, his brother and sister could do nothing but try to comfort him.

Riku shied away from them, wishing desperately that they would leave him to his grief.  He had touched real madness and tasted true hatred.  He would never be the same again…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're a psychic!" Darius said, his eyes wide.  "I don't believe it!"  Riku had just told them, in a horribly flat monotone, what he had seen and felt after collapsing.  At the moment, Sephiroth was lying on his back in the bed, still unconscious, and the three of them were sitting around him on the large mattress.

"Hm?" Riku said, looking up from his father's face.

"You're a psychic," Samara repeated.  "Most of your power comes not from a magic store within your spirit or from manipulating the magic surrounding you, like with most ylfen, but from the strength and potency of your mind.  You can do many things at will that other ylfen have to cast a spell for, and often a difficult spell at that.  Psychics are so rare than many people don't believe they exist."

"The first signs of psychic powers are usually telepathic, like empathy and a seeing ability," Darius continued.  "You can feel others' emotions as well as see the past and future in dreamlike visions.  And, as you demonstrated, that seeing ability also allows you to look directly into others' minds.  After that, you develop telekinetic powers, and can make things move with your thoughts as well as be able to cause and manipulate bursts of non-magic energy."

"If they're so rare," Riku asked, letting this sink in, "how do you know so much about them?"  As strange as it sounded, this made perfect sense, considering his recent experiences with emotions and visions.

"Darius is fascinated with psychics," Samara explained.  "He's read at least three times every book about them he can find."

"They happen completely randomly, and genetics and heredity plays no part," Darius muttered to himself.  "I can't believe it!  A psychic!"

"C-can I learn to control these powers?" Riku asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.  He was horrified with the idea of constantly hearing others thoughts and feeling their emotions, unable to tell which are his own and which come from outside.

"Yes," Darius nodded, to his great relief.  "You can learn to use your empathy and telepathy only when you want to, so you're not drowning in a sea of other people's thoughts and feelings.  I think telekinetic powers are only brought about by a conscious effort, too, so those probably won't be a problem for you to control."  He rubbed his chin.  "Although, being a seer is never a predictable thing, if what I read is right.  Looking into others' minds is always voluntary on your part, but not the rest.  Visions of the past and future sneak up on you without warning and without pattern, and you can't control what you see.  I read that psychics often need strong emotional support from friends and family to keep these sometimes disturbing visions from breaking them.  If the seer has their soulmate, it's supposedly easier to bear, as they can depend on them to help out."

"I see," Riku said softly, returning his gaze to Sephiroth's still face.

After a long silence, Samara spoke.  "We should go," she said.  "I don't want to be here when he wakes up.  He's had a rough day already, and we're in his inner sanctum."

"You two can go if you want," Riku said slowly.  "I'm staying right here."

"Riku, he may attack you again," Darius warned.  "You're skating on very thin ice here.  We don't want him to kill you, and that's what he may try again."

"I don't care," Riku said softly.

Nothing they could say would move Riku to reconsider, so Darius and Samara reluctantly left their little brother alone with their father.  They closed the doors behind them, and the click of the latches were loud in the silence.

Riku smoothed stray strands of hair away from Sephiroth's face, his touch gentle.  He had seen into Sephiroth's mind, into his heart and soul, and he understood him more than anyone else ever had or ever will.  Anyone except Wenna.

Taking one of his father's slack hands, he spoke softly, tears stinging his eyes again.  "I'll help you, Father," he whispered.  "I'll do whatever you want or need to help you get better.  I swear it on my life."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Hoo-wee.  This chapter got a lot longer than I expected.  I thought it was gonna be kinda short, but it took off on its own.  If I had written chapter seven and this as one chapter, as I originally planned, can you imagine how long _that_ would have been?  Eek.  I think the first scene of this chapter is kinda…iffy.  I wrote it as the TV was on, so I was distracted, but I could see no way to revise it without making it worse.  I hope I didn't turn you guys off with it, and that this is just another case of my harshest critic being myself.  ^_^;;  Please, don't think of Darius and Samara as callous for not wanting to check on their father as he suffered.  This has just happened too many times before, and they've tried everything.  All they can do now is just let him scream it out and hopefully return to normal in a few days, or at least go back to the catatonic type of madness that he usually showed during his spells.  Besides, you saw how Sephiroth was when Riku entered his bedroom for a second time.  He seriously wanted to kill his son.  And, like Samara said, death will be a mercy for Sephiroth after all the things he's been through.  Oh, and if any of you drew any parallels, yes, I was influenced by Hitomi's visions from _Tenkû no Escaflowne_ as I was writing Riku's experience with Sephiroth's memories.  Anyway, I hope this chapter turned out all right.  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	9. Farewell Gifts

**Author's Notes:**  Argh.  It's been around a month since I posted for this fic last.  I tried writing this chapter once before, but it came out _bad_.  Writer's block has hit me hard lately.  Also, I've started a new job and recently become addicted to _Final Fantasy X_, so that hasn't helped.  I just hope this chapter turns out better this time around than the first time.

See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Nine:  Farewell Gifts 

It was quiet today in the Stretch.  The breeze was gentle, the weather mild.  Occasionally, the call of a bird or an animal was heard.

Riku had just passed his end-of-training trial.  Every ylfe youngster, when they turned fifteen, had to go through a series of physical, magical, and mental tests to see if they had taken to their training well.  The standards for passing were not set at a specific mark, but calibrated to each ylfe's potential and family history.  Most ylfe passed on or around their fifteenth birthday, making fifteen the standard cutoff age for the training period.  If they did not pass, however, they would be retested every month until they did.

Riku had passed with flying colors, and the judges from the Court of Reason that had been present had been astounded with how he had handled the mental and magical parts.  They had, of course, heard that he was a psychic, but psychics hadn't been heard of in Aerie in their lifetimes, so they hadn't known what to expect.

The physical part of the trial wasn't so easy for him, though he had still passed with little difficulty.  Growing up as a human on the Destiny Islands, his speed and strength had been far above that of his peers, but in the One World, they had been average for someone of his age.  He had since come further than he had once thought even possible, and he was still just a child.  Adult ylfen still seemed almost supernatural to him, and his father was just beyond comprehension.  Riku was a little ahead of many ylfen were at fifteen, and it was expected that he would be among the most skilled and powerful.  He may even reach his father's level.

At the moment, Sephiroth was sitting down in the grass, still in the area that had been designated for Riku's trial.  He, besides Riku, was the only one still around.  The boy was on his back a few feet away, complete relaxed, eyes closed.  He had lain there to catch his breath, and the warm sun had lulled him into a light doze.  His father had settled down near him, content to just let the world pass him by for the time being.  Not only was Riku through with training, so was Sephiroth.  An ylfe's parents usually shared the responsibility of training their children, but Sephiroth had been Riku's sole parent and thus his sole trainer.  Samara, Darius, and Cloud often lent a hand, but it was still mostly Sephiroth's duty.  He didn't dislike the daily task of coaching his youngest son, but it did feel good to know that his son had accomplished what was expected of him and they were both finished.  Now, Riku would hone and develop his power at his own pace, perhaps taking an outside teacher to help him specialize in something or another.

Sephiroth was proud of his boy.  Neither Darius nor Samara had gotten quite so far in their ten-year training period.

"There you are," a voice said from behind him, making him turn.  Cloud landed lightly a few feet away and sat down next to him.  "Your kids are wondering what you're up to."

Sephiroth shrugged, not answering.

"Well, he has just one more hurdle to go," Cloud said after looking at the catnapping Riku.  "All he has between him and official adulthood now is the coming-of-age rite in five years."

Sephiroth nodded.  "He will have no difficulty with that, I'm sure," he said.  "Since he passed his end-of-training trial as well as he did, the coming-of-age rite will not be much of an obstacle."

"Yeah," Cloud assented.  "He's surprised a lot of people.  I don't really think there was any malice in it, but people didn't expect him to be very remarkable.  I guess they figured that, since he's half-human, he'd be below average for ylfen.  Few people expected him to be above average like this."

"I guess so," Sephiroth said.  "Neither he nor I took his human blood into account, though.  He just kept aiming his highest, and I gave him the necessary training to help him reach his goal."

"Human willpower and determination can be very strong, indeed," Cloud said, "and he's quite the willful and determined young man.  Perhaps that helped."

"Perhaps," Sephiroth agreed.

"Being psychic played some role, no doubt," Cloud continued.  "He seemed to master so many things in half the time it takes most ylfen his age."

Sephiroth nodded again.  "He said that, though neither I nor anyone else could really instruct him in how to utilize psychic powers, it seemed to come to him quickly and naturally.  He now has complete control over his empathy and telepathy, and he's pretty good at moving things telekinetically.  He sometimes has visions and premonitions that scare him, but he says that Darius, Samara, and I are helpful in dealing with them."

"That's good," Cloud said with a slight smile.  "I'd hate to see him suffering from something he has no control over and no one can accurately help him with."

Riku's eyes suddenly popped open, and he gasped.  His entire body had stiffened, and he was staring up at the fluffy clouds like they horrified him.

"Riku?" Sephiroth asked, going over to him.  He brushed Riku's hair away from his wide, green eyes.  "What's wrong, Son?"

"I-I saw something…" Riku said slowly, accepting his father's help in sitting up.  He was shaking slightly, and he looked spooked.  "It was only a few seconds long, but…"

"What did you see?" his father asked after a few minutes, an arm around his son as support.

"Gravestones," Riku said, his thin eyebrows drawing together.  "They said…they…they had Sora and Kairi's names on them!"

Sephiroth and Cloud glanced at each other briefly.

"Do you know if it's from the past or the future?" Cloud asked.

"I-I don't know," Riku replied, still shaking.  He suddenly grabbed hold of his father's shirt, pulling himself more upright.  "Please, take me to the Destiny Islands!"

Sephiroth sighed and nodded, tightening his hold on his son and casting the needed spell.  White light and heat flared up around them, and they vanished from the Stretch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Y'know, I've never been to the Destiny Islands before," Cloud, who had tagged along, observed aloud.

"Oh, shush," Sephiroth hissed in a near whisper.  "This isn't the time for that."  They were flying above the city of Fate, Riku in the lead.  The youngest of the three didn't seem to care who saw him, so the other two weren't taking the usually necessary precautions, either.

Riku was in too much of a hurry to feel around for Sora and Kairi, and he was also afraid that he would find nothing.  He instead made a beeline for where he used to live, the house he had given his two closest friends upon his departure for the One World.  After so long, he still remembered exactly where it was.

"Sora!" he called, bursting through the front door.  "Kairi!"

He stopped short.  There were indeed two people in the living room, but they weren't Sora or Kairi.  They were two men who looked like brothers in their thirties or forties, and they jumped up from where they sat at Riku's sudden entrance, surprised.

"Who are you?" The taller of the two men said at almost the same time Riku did.  The two strangers look disconcerted at the strange appearance of the three ylfe, especially by their wings and eyes, but they did not show any kind of fear.  If they were scared, they were handling it well.

"They look familiar," Cloud said from the doorway.

"That's because, if I'm not mistaken," Sephiroth said, "they're Sora and Kairi's sons.  See?  They resemble both the mother and the father."  He was a few feet behind Riku and a little to his left.

The taller one blinked.  "You're right.  How do you know our parents?"

"Hoshi," the shorter one said, "look at the one in front.  Except for the longer hair and the wing, he fits the description Mom and Dad gave to us perfectly."

"Are you the one called Riku?" Hoshi asked.

"Yes," Riku nodded, though he seemed very agitated.

Hoshi and his brother, whose name was Umi, glanced at each other, and the three ylfe finally noticed that the two of them looked tired and stressed.

"You're just in time, then," Umi said slowly, "to say goodbye."

"WHAT?!" Riku shouted, perhaps louder than he intended.

"They doctor said he doesn't expect them to live long," Umi continued sadly.

"B-but…" Riku stammered, trembling, "but, they're only in their…in their sixties!  Th-they aren't old!  They can't die!"

"They've both caught the same disease, and neither of them is expected to survive it," Hoshi said quietly.

"B-but…but…"  Riku struggled for words.

"Human mortality takes a sharp upturn around the time they turn sixty," Sephiroth's quiet yet powerful voice said from behind him.  "Their bodies and their immune systems are weakening, and many of them lose brain mass."  Though Riku was facing the other way, Sephiroth lowered his eyelids and looked away.  "I'm sorry, Son."

Cloud was silent.

Riku didn't stick around to discuss it any longer, instead going into the hallway to where he knew the master bedroom was.  Without knocking, he pushed through the door, finding another human he didn't recognize sitting by the bedside.  She was Tsuki, Sora and Kairi's daughter.

"Who are you?!" Tsuki gasped, frightened by Riku's sudden appearance.

"I'm Riku," Riku answered, giving no explanation, he quickly crossed to the other side of the bed and looked down at the occupants.

His heart lurched.

Sora and Kairi looked so thin, so gray, so _old_.  They were both very sick, their frail bodies looking like Riku could easily snap them in half.  Riku had known, had always known in the back of his mind, that Sora and Kairi would age and die while he remained unchanged, forever young.  But, the realization of what that meant had never really hit home until now, when he was actually seeing it.  The cruel ravages of time and illness had left their mark on their faces and bodies, and he could almost see the seconds being shed from the time they had left.  Whether he had meant to or not, Riku now felt the same way as all ylfen do about aging:  It is a strange, foreign subject, and to see it at work is both confusing and horrifying.

"S-Sora!" Riku managed to say, lowering himself to his knees by the bedside, taking his dearest friend's hand.  Sora, asleep and exhausted, made little response, his fingers tightening minutely around Riku's and his head turning slightly to the side.

"Riku…" Sephiroth began.

"Why didn't I come sooner?!" Riku suddenly burst out, tears threatening to fall.

"You couldn't," Sephiroth sighed.  "You know ylfen in their training period must stay around home until their end-of-training trial.  Both you and whoever brought you—most likely Cloud or me—would have gotten into a lot of trouble if we had tried to take you somewhere before you were allowed to."

"It's not fair!" Riku said in almost a whine, tears slipping down his pale cheeks.

"I know it's not," Sephiroth said quietly, knowing that he could offer little comfort.  "I'm sorry, Riku."

Riku didn't reply, his eyes fixed on Sora's pale, wan face.  The tears welled up in his green eyes, and he simply put his head down on the mattress and cried.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next few days were the hardest Riku had yet faced.  Sora and Kairi never fully woke, so he spoke to them through their minds, connecting the three of them, so they could all hear each other.  They were both overjoyed that he was there, as both had been afraid that they would never be able to say goodbye to the man they still considered their closest friend.  Riku wept bitterly, lamenting their approaching death, deep regret at coming back on their deathbed twisting his heart painfully.  They tried to tell him that they did not resent him for it, that the fact that they could say one last goodbye was more than enough to make up for it.  His guilt refused to leave, but he was comforted some by those words.  He exposed his emotions to them, letting them feel the deep love and friendship he held for them both, and the empath in him told him that they felt the same.

_I suppose that is all one can ask for from friends_, he would later tell himself.  _Love and friendship is all you need feel for each other.  Nothing else matters in the long run._

He was connected to them almost the entire time, and the whole time he was connected, he could feel their weakness, the strength draining slowly from them.  He wanted to do something, anything, for them before they were gone, so he took their suffering upon himself as a last gift to them.  Their discomfort from the illness all but vanished, and they were little less comfortable than if they were dying peacefully of old age.  Riku, however, steeled himself and let the pain and slow wasting fall upon him, suffering as much as they had been combined.  He had collapsed to the wood floor with a groan, and Tsuki, who was with him at the time, had run out in a panic.  When Sephiroth and Cloud had come in, alerted by Tsuki, they had found Riku as weak as he had been when Cloud had inadvertently given him a cold soon after his arrival in the One World.  Neither could convince Riku to not take on so much, so all they could do was lay him out in a makeshift bed on the floor and keep watch over him.

On the third day since their arrival, Riku gave a pained, moaning whimper and seemed to improve dramatically.  About twenty minutes later, all signs of suffering vanished, and he bolted upright with a cry of dismay.  When he curled up and began to cry, they knew what had happened.

Sora and Kairi had died less than half an hour apart.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Poor kid…" Cloud said, running his fingers through his surprisingly pliable hair, his eyes downcast.  He and Sephiroth were sitting on either side of a palm tree on the beach, the buildings of Fate rising up not too far away.  They had left Riku and come here, letting him take care of any final business he had without their interference.

Sephiroth nodded without saying a word.

"I wonder about Aerith," Cloud said after a long pause.  "Sure, she and I were never more serious than a date now and then, but she was probably the closest friend I've had among humans."

"Did you kiss her?" Sephiroth asked.

"Why?" Cloud blinked, a little surprised.

Sephiroth shrugged.  "Just curious."

"Well…yeah," Cloud nodded.  "Her and Tifa."

"Tifa?"

"Another girlfriend."

"I see."

"I was second place to both of them, I think.  Aerith had eyes for this swordsman named Zack, and Tifa was always hanging out with three guys she was a neighbor to growing up."

"Do you regret being 'second place'?"

"Nah.  I was more friends with both of them, anyway."

"Hm."

There was another pause.

"I also wonder about Squall and Yuffie and Cid," Cloud continued.  "Everyone I knew on Hollow Bastion when I left, except maybe the kids, are old or dead now."  He was quieter than he normally was.

"I advise you not to make anymore human friends, if you want to avoid that in the future," Sephiroth said.

Cloud nodded slowly.  "I've gone through it plenty of times before."

"I know," Sephiroth said.  "Here comes Riku."

They stood up as the young man landed.  He was clutching a rectangular wooden box with no markings on the outside.  A small lock hung at the clasp, and two keys were tied to the lock with a string.

"What's that?" Cloud asked.

"I don't know yet," Riku said, his voice hoarse from the emotions he'd been recently going through.  "I asked their kids what it was, and they didn't know, either.  It's something Sora and Kairi left me in their will."

"Are you going to open it now or wait until you get home?" the blond asked.

"When I get home," Riku replied, his voice beginning to tremble.  "I-I want to go…I don't want to be here anymore!"  Tears fell from his already red eyes.

"Riku…" Sephiroth said softly.  Stepping forward, he put his arms around his son, holding him gently, letting him grieve.  Riku cried brokenly against his shoulder, mourning the loss of the first two people to show him real caring and concern.  As he wept, his father took them out of that dimension and set them down in Riku's bedroom, carefully maneuvering his youngest to lie on the bed.  He took the box from Riku—it was heavy—and set it down on the desk.

"Sleep, Riku," Sephiroth whispered, pulling the covers up and over his child.  "I'll watch over you, Son."

Curling up, Riku muttered his thanks, then dropped down into deep, mercifully emotionless slumber.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The box contained sixteen keychains.  A note from Sora was inside, telling how the Keyblade itself had disappeared after sealing Kingdom Hearts, but the keychains had remained.  Since Riku was the true Keyblade Master, he was the one who should rightfully have the keychains, but Sora never thought to give them to him until he was gone.  He hoped Riku could forgive him that mistake, and that he found it a fitting last gift.

The keychains were all mounted in what looked like custom-fitted foam.  Sora had gone to a lot of trouble to have them made up for a proper presentation to the rightful owner.  Each keychain had a label under it with the name and the rank printed in neat, black letters.  Riku recognized it as Kairi's handwriting.  It looked like the box hadn't been opened since the display had been completed, since the keychains all looked newly polished and undisturbed.

Tears had stung Riku's eyes as he had read the note.  This was the perfect thing to remember Sora and Kairi by.  Yes, they symbolized a time of hardship for the three of them, but that time had ultimately brought them closer together.

Riku had never before gotten a close look at any of them, and he examined them carefully, as if he were an archaeologist cataloging an important find.  There was a silver shape that looked like a silhouette of King Mickey's head labeled "Kingdom Key", a spellbook labeled "Spellbinder", a blue butterfly labeled "Jungle King", a yellow star labeled "Wishing Star", a gold oil lamp labeled "Three Wishes", a blue seashell labeled "Crabclaw", a jack-o-lantern labeled "Pumpkinhead", a red feather labeled "Fairy Harp", an Ace of Hearts labeled "Lady Luck", a round yellow lightning emblem labeled "Olympia", a white star—Riku was surprised to recognize it as Kairi's lucky charm—labeled "Oathkeeper", a yellow bird labeled "Metal Chocobo", a silver lion head labeled "Lionheart", a red rosebud labeled "Divine Rose", a black crown labeled "Oblivion", and a white crystal heart with gold embellishments labeled "Ultima Weapon".  Cloud had exclaimed over the Metal Chocobo and Lionheart.  He said that he himself had given the Metal Chocobo to Sora in the Coliseum, and that Lionheart—which he pointed out had "Griever" etched into the smooth back—had been worn by Squall as a pendant on a silver chain.

Right now, the box was sitting closed, but unlocked, back on Riku's desk.  He had been sitting on his bed with his back to the wall for several hours, speaking none and moving little.  Deep in thought, he was not really seeing what his eyes were looking at.

"Riku, are you doing all right?" he heard his father ask, breaking him out of his reverie.

Riku nodded as Sephiroth sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

For a long time, Riku didn't answer, but he finally opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in more than a day.  "Father…I've been thinking…"

"Oh?" Sephiroth tilted his head.  "About what?"

"My human blood," Riku said softly.  "I…I don't want it anymore."

"What?" Sephiroth said slowly.  "Why?"

"There is nothing there for me anymore," Riku said thinly, looking at the box.  "All my friends from childhood are dead or will die soon.  I don't want to go back, because I don't ever want to go through this again.  I-I…I want to leave that part of my past behind."

Sephiroth gazed steadily at his son.  His eyes were gentle, yet still piercing.  "What about your memories?" he finally asked.  "Will you let those go as well?  Will you remember Sora and Kairi only as the people who gave those keychains to you?  Will you cast them aside, too?"

"No!" Riku cried, looking aghast.  "No, I'll never to that!"  He came away from the wall, kneeling only a few inches from his father.  "Father, please do this!"

"Why?" Sephiroth asked.  "Why else but to cut all ties with your human side?  You may as well throw those keychains into the ocean."  He sighed, avoiding the horrified look in his son's vibrant eyes.  "I am skilled in healing magic, so I believe I could purge the human blood from your veins and leave you pure ylfe, but I will not.  You are still reeling from their loss, and you are not asking me with a sound mind.  If you asked me while you were not being tried like this emotionally, I might—I _might_—consider it, but I believe I'd still refuse."

"Father…" Riku murmured.

Sephiroth placed a tender hand on Riku's shoulder.  "You are mourning, Riku, and you are desperate for comfort.  You think this will give it to you—perhaps you believe it will distance you from the source of your pain—but it will not.  It would be irreversible, and I will not do something you may regret later unless you've thought a very long time about it.  Please, think about this long and hard.  I have a feeling you'll change your mind."  His hand slid up Riku's neck to his hair, and he leaned forward so their foreheads were touching.  It was a common sign of love between people, be they lovers, family members, soulmates, or friends.  "I know you lost your respect for your mother," he said softly, "but you must be proud of your human heritage.  Ylfen think them weak, but I know they are very powerful, in their way.  They have the strongest fighting spirits and willpower that I've ever seen.  Don't throw away half of your history in a fit of grief like this."

Tears were rolling down Riku's cheeks, and he nodded slowly.  "I…I will.  I will be proud, Father."

Sephiroth smiled and nodded, standing up.  "Come on, Son.  You should get back out into the world.  Live again."

Riku took a deep breath and obeyed.  _I'll get through this_, he told himself.  _I'll get through this…_

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Yay!  I think I'm out of my writer's block!  Sorry about my first chapter in a month being so sad.  I also hope Sora fans and Kairi fans aren't too upset.  Just bear in mind that they had to die sometime, and I couldn't deal with it by just never mentioning them again.  I don't have much to say, save that I hope the names I gave Sora and Kairi's kids didn't seem too generic.  The three main characters of _Kingdom Hearts_ have Japanese nouns for names, so I decided to give Hoshi, Umi, and Tsuki the same kind of names.  I also hope that the next chapter is written and posted soon.  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	10. Visions in the Hallway

**Author's Notes:**  RRGH!  I'm late with this chapter, too!  This is also my _third_ attempt to at least _start_ the chapter.  *sigh*  Well, at least it's here, right?  Better late than never at all…

See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Ten:  Visions in the Hallway 

Darkness.  Darkness was taking him, pulling him downward and inward.  It surrounded, penetrated, and consumed him, and he felt nothing.

A sensation came to him, an all-gripping cold.  It came not from without but from within, an icy rush of dread as he realized what was going on.

_Heartless!_ he cried silently, his voice gone.  _They have me!  They've taken my heart!_  Had he even tried to speak, or was he just thinking the words?  He didn't know.

The slow seconds passed, and the cold feeling faded as he made another realization.  He was wrong.  The Heartless didn't have him.  He remembered walking down the main hallway of his home when the darkness and nothingness suddenly came to him.  He must be having a vision, his body fallen to the smooth limestone floor.  But, a vision of what?  Past?  Present?  Future?

It was strange.  Usually, he was in darkness for a few seconds at most, and he could then see what there was to see.  He guessed he had been in darkness now for at least a minute, and he could see and hear nothing yet.

He set down gently on an unseen floor, and the moment he did, the darkness melted away.  He was in a room he recognized as his own, but that wasn't him kneeling in the middle of the floor, practicing a simple parlor trick involving lights and sparkles.  It couldn't be.  Riku didn't come to the One World until he was full-grown, and this child looked about three-quarters his height and build.  It was Sephiroth as a child.  It had to be him.

So, Riku's bedroom must have once belonged to his father.

The door opened, making the boy look over.  Two ylfen, a man and a woman, came in, and the child jumped up and latched onto the woman in a hug.  These two must be his parents.  The mother looked soft and gentle, her light brown hair falling in a wavy mass down her back, though her blue eyes showed that she was sharp of mind and of wit.  The father looked sterner and harder, perhaps even cold.  His eyes and hair were very dark, contrasting dramatically with his son's looks.  Sephiroth was colored like neither of his parents, making Riku wonder if he didn't resemble a grandparent more closely or something.

Riku couldn't catch words, but he knew what they were saying, nonetheless.  It was like he was reading the meaning of their unheard words from their thoughts.  The father told the boy that he would like to test Sephiroth again, to see if he had improved any in magic or physical combat since the last time.  The mother vaguely protested, pointing out that Sephiroth wasn't old enough to start formal training, and that pushing him too hard as a child may have negative results.  She relented, though, when the boy insisted that he had improved, and that he'd show his father how good he had become from just practicing by himself.  His eyes were bright and determined, full of a child's fire and enthusiasm to prove himself.  The father gave a smile, then the whole thing faded to black, only to be replaced by another scene.

It was very short.  Sephiroth, barely an adult, stood poised in a grassy area, his incredibly long sword held at the ready, seemingly pausing in practice of his swordsmanship.  His face was calm, but his eyes were blazing.  A warrior's soul burned beneath his skin, and a youth's naïveté and zeal added to the light coming from his eyes.  He had no idea of the joys and the sorrows that he would experience in his long life.

_Or the madness_, Riku began to think, but his surroundings changed again.  He was now in the master bedroom, and the bed was occupied.  Wenna was in the bed, lying on her back, one delicate hand level with her head.  She wore nothing as she lightly dozed, covered just by the bedclothes.  Beside her, her lifemate lay.  Sephiroth was on his front, propped up on both elbows, his hands folded loosely on one of the pillows.  He was watching his mate, a loving and indulgent smile on his face.  He, the incredibly powerful Sephiroth, looked tame and yielding as a kitten, willing to obey her every command, no matter how silly or pointless it was.  Riku had little doubt that that was very close to the truth.

Though he looked no different at first glance, Riku was still unused to seeing his father like this.  His eyes were bright, unclouded, unjaded, his smile neither tainted nor forced.  The sorrows and disappointments he had experienced thus far were small, easily forgotten.  Life was still a mostly enjoyable prospect.

_So…innocent_, Riku thought, then frowned at his word usage.  Usually, "innocent" was used to describe the inexperience of children.  Still, it fit in this case.  His father, at this point, had been largely naïve about death, true unhappiness, pain deeper than mere flesh wounds…he had had limited experience with the negative things in the world.  In fact, a huge percentage of ylfen were like that.  They knew little of life outside their shielded cities and towns, their largest burden until their death or the loss of a soulmate being the wearisome passage of their ageless lives.

It was far from perfect, but the ylfe society was probably as close to a utopian civilization as a society could get without its members losing individual self and spirit.

Riku pondered this.  He could see no malice or oppression in the government, but he was still troubled.  It seemed like his father's people were afraid of change.  Still, the ylfen had lived their lives like this for hundreds of thousands of years, maybe more.  He still wasn't sure how long ago it was that their primitive ancestors first formed an organized society.

_If they live like this voluntarily, then who am I to change it?_ Riku thought.  _They are harming neither themselves nor others.  The biggest shame is that they are willingly refraining from changes merely because they like where they are now._

Now that he thought about it, it wasn't his place to say that human society was better than ylfe society any more than it was their place to say the opposite.  The human idea that change meant improvement could be just as blind and badly informed as the idea that change meant problems.

His attention was suddenly yanked back to the vision at hand.  The scene had changed as he had mused over the pros and cons of society, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully at what he saw.

It was nighttime, and he was near the canyon edge above the city.  A bonfire burned brightly, and several silent people where gathered, watching the flames.  This wasn't a regular bonfire, but a funeral pyre.  It was Wenna's funeral pyre, actually.  Ylfen did not bury their dead, burning their remains and letting the wind carry the smoke and ash away.  They loved nature dearly, and their final resting place was spread out over the land at nature's whim.  It was a fitting end.  The absence of a grave to visit used to bother Riku, but he hardly thought about it now.

He couldn't find Sephiroth at first, though he saw Samara and Darius.  Darius had his arms around his sister in a comforting embrace, and Samara's head was bowed and her right hand was in a loose fist on her chest with her left hand over it, as if her heart hurt.  Or, perhaps she was praying.

Riku went around to the other side of the fire, away from the canyon edge, and found Sephiroth.  He was nearer the flames than anyone else, and he was on both knees on the ground.  Despite the high heat, he appeared to be freezing.  He was hunched and stiff, shivering visibly, his breath shaky and shallow.  A black shroud he clutched around himself, gripping the fabric as if he meant to tear it with his fingernails.  Even his wing looked cold, huddled against his back, the bluish-black feathers ruffled up as if trying to hold warm air against the skin.  Riku could see little of his shadowed face, save what the flickering firelight revealed, but he could tell that his father was weeping silently, hot tears flowing relentlessly from his exhausted, reddened eyes.

No one, not even his own children, made a move to console him.  His grief, his suffering, was too profound.  Nothing could give him solace.

Nothing, except perhaps death.

He was kneeling very close to the edge of the flames.  Much too close, in Riku's opinion.  Small tongues of fire every once in a while licked lightly at his hair, his skin, his clothing.  It's like he wanted to be burned alongside his love.  He probably did.  Riku had never seen it himself, but he had heard stories of grieving ylfen burning themselves on their soulmate's pyre, unable to face even one day without them.

Riku felt a rush of anger, but it wasn't at any particular person, nor was it at the concept of killing oneself to be with one's love.  He was angry at fate itself.  Sephiroth should have died that night.  He should have let the flames consume him.  He should have joined Wenna immediately and been spared the pain of living without her.  Instead, fate kept him from dying when he should have.  It kept him alive for hundreds of years in madness and hopelessness, just to father one child with a human woman who thought that many sex partners was a noteworthy achievement.  If Sephiroth had died, Riku's soul would have been born as some other couple's baby.  Human or ylfe, he did not know, but he would have had different parents.  But, he _had_ to be Sephiroth's son, he _had_ to be the "best" candidate to wield the Keyblade when it finally appeared ages after Wenna had died.  Fate didn't care about the people it used like pawns on a chessboard.

"Curse fate!" Riku hissed, wishing that there was some physical thing, some personification of fate that he could strangle for being so uncaring and callous.

"Riku!" a faint voice called.  He looked up, startled, as if he expected the mourners to be looking at him.  That was ridiculous, as he wasn't really there, and the funeral pyre wasn't really taking place.  He then realized that he heard the voice inside his head, and someone was calling to him from the real world.  "Riku!" it called again, louder, and he recognized it as his father's.  The scene around him faded into black, and he felt his awareness pop back into his physical body with a bit of a jolt.

"Riku!" Sephiroth said again, shaking his son gently.

"Mmf…I'm awake," Riku muttered, blinking his eyes open, looking like someone dragged reluctantly from a deep sleep.

"Are you okay?" his father asked.

"Yeah," he nodded, sitting up.  "Just…saw some stuff."  He wasn't looking directly at the older man, and in fact didn't really want to at the moment.  He knew his eyes would give something away.  He didn't like his father knowing when he saw visions of him, though he wasn't sure why he felt that way.

"What did you see?" Sephiroth asked slowly.

Riku rubbed his temples, flipping his long hair back from his face, still not making eye contact.  "It was of the past.  I couldn't change it, no matter how I tried."

Sephiroth tilted his head and eyed him.  For a long time, neither of them spoke, Sephiroth searching his son with his eyes and Riku trying to avoid eye contact without looking like he was.  "Where are you heading?" Sephiroth asked, finally speaking.  "Do you need help?"  He didn't like it when his son seemed troubled by a vision, yet refused to say what it was of.  It worried him to no end.

"I'm fine," Riku answered, standing.

"Are you sure?" his father asked, standing as well.

"Please, Father, don't worry about me," Riku insisted, half turning as if to leave.  "This doesn't concern you."  It was a flat lie.  What Riku saw had everything to do with Sephiroth.

"Then, who does it concern?"

Riku stopped, caught off-guard.

"Well?" Sephiroth continued.

The younger man sighed deeply, his shoulders visibly dropping.  "You," he said quietly.  "I lied.  I saw you."

"Was that so hard?" his father asked.  "What did you see?"

"Four things," Riku explained.  "You and your parents, soon after you became an adult, and you and Wenna were the first three.  All were just random things that could merely be my seeing abilities stretching their wings.  The fourth one was—"  He paused, wondering how to put this.  Sighing, he just said it straight out.  "The fourth one was Wenna's pyre."

Sephiroth stood very still, having no physical reaction to that save a change in the light coming from his eyes.

"You should have died then!" Riku burst out, not aware of what he was saying until he had said it.

Sephiroth's eyes closed, and he nodded slowly.  "Yes…yes, I should have."

"And…a-and, you survived only because of me," Riku muttered, guilt stinging him.

"Don't think like that," Sephiroth sighed.  "It's not your fault.  You couldn't control who fate conspired to be your parents, so you mustn't feel guilty about it."

"Why are you still alive?" Riku suddenly asked.  His eyes widened and a sick feeling washed through him.  He shouldn't have said that.  It made him sound like he wanted his father to die.

"Do you wish me dead, Riku?" Sephiroth asked, eyeing his son strangely, waiting for his answer.

Riku grit his teeth behind his lips and turned his face away.  "If it will end your suffering, then yes."

Sephiroth's gaze lowered.  "I do long for death, Son," he said.  "I can't count the number of times I've contemplated taking my own life, but I still can't die yet."

"Why not?" Riku asked, looking back at him, and almost stepped back in surprise to find that his father had dramatically closed the distance between them.  One of his hands was resting lightly on Riku's shoulder, the other brushing the hair from Riku's eyes as if to inspect his face.  "_Me?!_" he barked, feeling a rush of anger.  "I _still_ won't let you die?!"

"It's not that," Sephiroth shook his head.  "You don't have to _let_ me die, so I misspoke.  It's not that I _can't_ die yet, but that I _won't_ die yet.  There's still something I wish to see through."

"What is it?"  Riku looked troubled.  What else could be important enough to delay the death he so desperately wanted?

"I want to make sure that you are doing well on your own," Sephiroth answered.  "You were born under some very unusual circumstances, and a life as a crossbreed of two very different races could have had disastrous consequences on you.  You could have felt…isolated, shunned, a freak.  I don't know if I showed it, but I was constantly afraid that you would become bitter that you were like no one else.  I still am."

"Father, I _am_ doing fine on my own!" Riku insisted.  "Yes, I did feel like I didn't understand anybody and nobody understood me, but those feelings quickly passed.  I don't think about it at all anymore.  Don't worry about it."

"I'm sure you are," Sephiroth nodded.  "I don't think I can go, though, until I'm completely satisfied."

"Please, don't prolong your pain on my account," Riku said softly.  "Father, please…"

"I'm sorry, Riku," Sephiroth answered.  "I'm grateful that you worry about me like this, but I wish you would stop.  It can't be good for you."

"Samara and Darius don't do anything for you!" Riku growled, shaking.  "They do _nothing_ to help you!  It makes me _sick_!"

"That's not true," Sephiroth said.  "They do enough to help me.  They just don't try to change my situation like you.  I'm not saying you're doing the wrong thing," he added quickly, seeing Riku's scowl, "most ylfen just wouldn't attempt to help me in that way.  See, I confuse people."

"Confuse people?"

"Yes.  You are right in that I should have burned myself that night.  The pain of being consumed in her flames would have been nothing to the agony I've endured without her.  Since I didn't die then, I should have died soon after.  No one has survived anywhere near this long after the death of their mate, and I'm afraid most ylfen, including my own children, see it as unnatural and wrong.  It doesn't matter why fate kept me alive.  They're leery of me, that's all."

"You're their _father_!" Riku cried.

"Riku, stop," Sephiroth said, his voice hardening.  "I won't have you speaking of your siblings like this."

"B-but…!"  Riku was cut off.  His father had his arms around him, holding him in a tight yet gentle hug.  He relaxed slowly, returning the embrace.

"I'm sorry, Son," his father murmured.  "Things will only happen the way they are meant to happen.  Please, stop worrying about the future and just live."

Riku slowly nodded.  "Yes, Father.  I…love you."

Sephiroth chuckled.  "I love you, too, Riku.  Do you need help going where you're going, or are you still fine?"

"I'm still fine," Riku answered, pulling back from Sephiroth.  "I'll see you later, then?"

Sephiroth nodded.  "Get along, and perk up some.  You're starting to look too much like me."

Riku looked at his father a moment.  His blank face as he had said that last sentence made it impossible for Riku to tell if he were joking or being serious.  He finally turned away and went on his way, slow and silent.  He had a lot to think about.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Fluffy father-son bonding flavored with my trademark angst.  We learn some about Sephiroth, but it's otherwise a harmless little chapter, if I do say so myself.  I think I confused some people, though.  This isn't what I originally planned to have as chapter ten.  I had told some of my friends what I was planning it to be, but it just wouldn't come out, no matter how much I thought on it.  I then told some of those people that I was scrapping my original idea and moving up my idea for chapter eleven to chapter ten.  I ended up not doing that, either.  I came up with this for chapter ten, so chapter eleven is chapter eleven again.  You get what I'm saying, right?  Sorry for the confusion!  ^_^;;  I hope I didn't make the sap in this chapter too cheesy.  I hate it when that happens, and I think it ruins the scene.  Anyway, sorry for the delay in getting this posted, and I really hope I'll get chapter eleven posted relatively soon.  Let me know what you think of this in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

SIDE NOTE:  I don't know how many of you noticed, but the descriptions I used for Sephiroth's parents could be applied to Hojo and Lucrecia.  There's obviously a different family history between them than there was in _Final Fantasy VII_, but I wanted his parents to at least have the same look that they did originally.  I won't be bringing his parents into the story anymore, so don't ask about what hidden meaning that vision had.  There isn't any hidden meaning.  None of Riku's first three visions in this chapter have any specific importance, to tell the truth.  I just wanted to illustrate to readers a little of how Sephiroth was before half of his soul was ripped away.  Don't overanalyze this like an English teacher would and insist that everything has some ulterior significance, please.  You can't imagine how that attitude toward literature annoyed me in my English classes.  Can't something just mean what it means for once?


	11. Blood Rage

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Eleven:  Blood Rage 

Deep in the south face of Aerie's canyon, in a room lit only by dim white lamps along the wall, Riku lay curled up in bed, fast asleep.  He was on his side, as was his wont, his body totally relaxed.  His breathing was soft and steady, his ribs expanding slightly with each breath.  He was a perfect study of peaceful sleep.

Suddenly, he turned completely over, going from his right side to his left.  He immediately stilled afterward, the turn only a brief burst of motion.  If someone had been there to look, however, his face wasn't quite so serene, and he was now holding the bedclothes tight around himself, as if he was cold.  He didn't stay still for long.

"Hnnn…"  He groaned quietly, jerking slightly, like he was struggling with something, trying to get away.  His breathing had become deeper, louder, as it would have if he were nervous, his heart and lungs speeding up.  Turning onto his back, he groaned again, almost a whine of fear, his face troubled, pained.  He was beginning to sweat, his fingers convulsively clenching and unclenching.

Finally, with a shout, he jerked awake.  He lay staring into the darkness for several minutes, his brain struggling to comprehend that he was awake, no longer caught in whatever nightmare had just gripped it.  He had heard of night terrors, where a sleeper wakes up from a nightmare but is unable to tell immediately if he is awake or not, but it had never happened to him before, and it didn't cross his mind that he was having one now.  All he knew was a stark fear that refused to let him move.

Little by little, his locked joints loosened, and he relaxed again.  His breathing and heartbeat were still high, and he was trembling, still scared.  He managed to push himself up into a sitting position, clutching the blankets around himself, like he was trying to warm up.  If he had been a child, the experience would have sent him into hysterical tears.  As an adult, he had a little more control over his reaction, enough to not cry, but he was terrified to get out of bed, afraid of what he may see if he left his tiny island in the darkness of his room.

"Riku?" a soft voice said from the doorway.  He froze at the sound, startled and frightened, but then calmed again when he realized it was his father's.  "Are you all right?" Sephiroth asked.

Riku was about to ask how his father had known that he had had a nightmare, but stopped.  He must have reflexively sent out a distress signal when he woke, disoriented and panicky, and his father had responded to it.  "I…I had a nightmare," he said instead, trying to quell his shaking.

He vaguely saw through the darkness a worried frown on Sephiroth's face.  "Are you always like this after a nightmare?"

"No," Riku shook his head.  "But, this time, I don't think I knew I was awake for a while after I woke."  His voice was steadier, yet he still felt cold.

"I see," his father nodded.  Even the bravest can be completely immobilized when the brain is confusing reality with nightmare.  "Do you want to talk about it?  What did you dream?"

For a long time, Riku was silent.  He sat in the middle of his bed, balled up in the blankets like a sick person.

"Lie back down, Riku," Sephiroth said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  "Your back will be sore if you keep sitting hunched like that."

Riku hesitated, then obeyed, laying himself down again.  It felt uncommonly good, as if he had had great hardship beforehand, and a proper bed was an uncommon luxury.  Pulling the covers over himself again, he looked ready to fall back asleep.  His eyes, however, stayed open.

"What did you dream?" Sephiroth asked again gently.

Again, he hesitated, but Riku told his father what he had seen.  The whole thing had been so clear and sharp, and it was much more like a vision than a dream.

Riku had found himself on the bank of a lake.  He had been unable to judge the size of the lake, as everything had been enshrouded in thick fog, limiting his field of vision.  Because of the mist, he had been under the impression that the lake was huge, its scope too big for him to see it all at one glance, even if the fog had not been there.  The waters of the lake had not been calm, churning violently as if a storm whipped them, yet he felt no wind.  The lake had seemed to be thrashing violently from its own force, something Riku had never seen liquid do.  It had been then that he had realized that it had not been water he had been seeing.  It had all been deep red, and an acrid stench had invaded his nostrils, making him almost gag in its intensity.

He had been standing on the banks of a sea of blood.

He had wanted to turn and run, unable to look at the gruesome scene, but something stopped him dead in his tracks.  To his horror, a hand had emerged at the edge of the blood.  The fingers had looked like claws, the nails digging into the soil to find a grip.  Another had immediately followed, and they had pulled, dragging forward arms, head, and shoulders onto the shore.  Something had been crawling out, and Riku had had a strong urge to wretch.

It had been ylfen, a single feathered wing, the feathers weighed down with sticky blood, sprouting from the back.  Long hair had obscured the face, disenabling Riku from identifying who it was.  The figure had been so soaked with blood, though, that Riku had doubted that he could recognize them at all.  They had been naked as well, their clothes either lost or forsaken.

The figure had sat up from their animal-like crouch, and Riku had seen from the flat chest and broad shoulders that it had been a male.  He had backed away, frightened and thoroughly disgusted with the sight.  A single thought had kept echoing through his mind:  _Getmeoutofheregetmeoutofheregetmeoutofheregetmeoutofheregetmeoutofhere…_

Slitted green eyes had been staring out at him from behind the matted curtain of blood-soaked hair, and he had given a cry of horror.  It was Sephiroth.

His father had given a hissing growl when he had seen Riku, crouching down, threatening like a beast would.  Riku hadn't even had time to react, however, before Sephiroth had sprung toward him, bent on tearing him to pieces.  Riku had screamed reflexively, throwing his arms up in front of himself to shield his face—

—and, at that moment, he had woken up.  He had been back in his bedroom, yet unable at first to recognize it as safety.

Riku fell silent after he finished his explanation, waiting for some reaction from his father.  If it was for good or for ill, he didn't know.

"My hands are stained with the blood of many," his father finally said after a long pause.  "Perhaps that is the meaning of this."

"But, I know that already," Riku said.  "It has to be more than that, if there's any meaning at all."

"You'll have to figure it out, then, because I don't know," Sephiroth shrugged.  "And, I think it does have meaning.  Not many dreams have absolutely no meaning, especially those dreamed by someone like you."

They sat in silence for a while, each pondering over the dream.

"I'm all right now, Father," Riku spoke up.  "You can leave now."

"Are you sure, though?" Sephiroth asked.

Riku nodded.

"All right," Sephiroth conceded.  "Let me know if you need anything."  He left, closing the door silently behind him.

Riku turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.  The dim light coming from the lamps cast odd shadows, and he spent a long time following the patterns and shapes with his eyes, mapping out their features.  He didn't really see what his eyes saw, however, as he was deep in thought.  What could that vision mean?  What significance did the blood and the crazed look in his father's eyes have?  He had almost fallen back to sleep, his body wanting to leave the speculation for the morning, when a sudden thought came to him, waking him up again.

Two days from now was the anniversary of Wenna's capture and murder.  Every year, Sephiroth went out into the Wilds, hunted down a kitsche, brutally killed it, and brought its head back home, stripped of flesh.  He had killed scores of kitschen in this way, and there was little chance of him stopping that gruesome tradition.

_Was that kitsche blood?_ he thought.  _Was that what it was?  Was that vision illustrating just how much life he had taken in the name of revenge?_  Riku had never liked what Sephiroth did every year on that day.  It was disgusting, barbaric, and an altogether bad way to deal with the death of his soulmate.  Revenge could only be taken so far before it stops being revenge and becomes killing for killing's sake.  Riku had never brought his disapproval up, however, because he knew that his father's reaction would be far less than favorable.

Why had his father attacked him, then?

_Are we going to fight?_ Riku mused.  _Does it have any connection with his killing of kitschen, if the kitschen he's killed are indeed what the blood signified?_

He stayed awake for a long time after that, questions about the dream keeping him from falling asleep.  However, he could only become so tired, so he finally let his eyes slide shut.  He was asleep again within minutes of closing his eyes, and he slept until long after the sun had risen.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku was moody the next day, and didn't come out of his room much.  He couldn't stop thinking about that dream and what it possibly meant.  Apparently, Sephiroth had told the other two what had happened, because no one came to his door to see if he was all right.

Riku was half convinced that the blood had to do with Sephiroth killing kitschen every year in revenge, mostly because of the timing of the dream.  There was the possibility that it meant something else entirely, but he was pretty sure that was it.  The madness in his father's eyes, if it was kitsche blood, was easy to explain.  He had lost his soulmate to them, placing a soul-deep hatred and resentment toward them in his heart.  As for why he attacked Riku, the younger man was still pondering.  For all he knew, he could have looked like a kitsche to his father, prompting the attack.  Perhaps, though, it meant that the two of them would fight concerning this issue in the near future.

Sephiroth hadn't seemed to have much of an outward reaction to Riku's description of the dream last night.  This morning, however, Riku had sought out his father's presence in the house and briefly touched his mind.  He was worried and disturbed about the dream, but didn't show it to Riku in order to keep his son from getting more upset.

Riku, sitting at the desk, sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  The case of keychains was standing open against the wall, and the metal glinted in the white light of the lamps lining the walls.  Samara had taught Riku a spell related to a shielding spell that kept dust off the keychains and their case, so that they still looked meticulously shined after several years.  He looked at the keychains and let his mind travel back to his childhood before they had even heard of the Keyblade.  He wanted to get away from the thoughts of the dream for a little bit, and he soon lost himself in his memories.

An odd sensation pulled him out of his memories again.  He wasn't sure what it was at first, but he soon realized that his father had passed the door to his bedroom, going down the hallway.  There was murder on his mind.

_Because of tomorrow_, Riku thought, standing.  Going out the door, he caught up with Sephiroth.

"Is tomorrow—" Riku began.

"Yes," Sephiroth said, cutting him off.

"So, that means—"

"I go hunting."

"But…"

"But, what?"

Riku faltered.  He wasn't even sure what he was going to protest, but words came out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying.  "You need to stop this."

Sephiroth stopped walking so suddenly that Riku almost ran into him.  "What?"

Riku mentally kicked himself, but went on.  He had already said it, so there was no point of trying to go back.  "I think you should stop killing on this day every year," he said.  "It's not right."

The slightly taller man turned around, his keen eyes boring into his son's.

"You've caught yourself in a vicious cycle," Riku continued, though inwardly he quailed under his father's piercing stare.  "It's become killing for killing's sake.  It's no longer real revenge, Father, just hatred.  You only draw yourself in further with every life that you take."

"Oh, really?" Sephiroth said quietly.  Riku noticed with a start that he was backed against the wall, his father standing awfully close.

"It's barbaric!" Riku burst out…

…and found himself on the floor, the left side of his face hurting like hell.  His father's fist had connected hard, and he felt dizzy and disoriented for a few seconds.

"How dare you…?" Sephiroth hissed, grabbing Riku by the collar and hauling him upright again.  "How dare you speak ill of her?!  She's not worth avenging, is she, or even remembering?!"

"N-no," Riku managed, trying to regain some control over his own balance.

"Liar," his father spat.

"You're drawing conclusions!" Riku shouted, feeling anger rise up within him.  His father's thought process wasn't exactly levelheaded, but Riku was getting sick of being accused of things he wasn't even implying.

"Oh, I am, am I?" Sephiroth growled, giving him a shake.

"As long as you keep killing in her name, you'll never let her memory rest!" Riku bit back.  "Think about it, Father.  Would killing a random kitsche every year and throwing its head into a storage room make her happy?!  Would she appreciate the way you cultivate your own madness instead of trying to overcome it?!"  His voice lowered, taking on a deadly tone.  "If I were her, I'd be severely disappointed in you."

Sephiroth's vertical pupils contracted to mere lines, and Riku felt a wave of rage and hatred so powerful come from him, it knocked down his mental shields and nearly immobilized him in its intensity.

Riku was suddenly yanked away from the wall and thrown against the closest door so hard, the metal peg that held it shut broke, making the door swing inward.  Riku hit the floor inside, having felt a few ribs and his left arm break, fighting unconsciousness.  He smelled death and realized that he was in the storage room that he had just mentioned.

His father grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look at the disorganized heap of skulls on the floor, his broken bones protesting loudly.

"Look, Riku," Sephiroth said, his voice quiet yet dangerous.  "Every single one of these deserved to die.  She was worth more to me than all the other life on this _planet_ combined, and they stole her from me.  She was _meat_ to them, no different than the game animals they hunt for food.  I would kill every one of their accursed race, but out laws prohibit actions that would disrupt the ecosystem.  They should count themselves lucky I only kill one of them a year."

"Father…" Riku began, but he was suddenly alone.  Sephiroth had left him on the stained floor, pained and bleeding.  He lay there for a long time, then finally began a healing spell, slowly knitting his broken bones and soothing away his bruises and cuts.

All he had wanted to do was help.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku didn't sleep at all that night.  Though he had healed his injuries, he still ached, and there was too much on his mind to sleep.  He lay staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like eternity, listening to the clock tick.  The hours seemed to strike days apart, and he didn't really pay attention to them.

Finally, in the middle of the morning, he got up again.  He was dead tired, yet his body would not allow him to fall asleep.

He went down the hallway and into the front room, finding his brother and sister there.

"Are you all right, Riku?" Darius asked.  "You look like you haven't slept at all."  He and Samara were normal on the surface, but their air was gloomier than normal.

"Father's gone?" Riku asked instead of answering Darius' question.

"Yes," Samara nodded.  "He's out in the Wilds, I imagine."

The Wilds.  He was out hunting for a kitsche to kill, if he hadn't gotten it already.  Riku felt a surge of urgency, a need to find him and stop him.  This wasn't right.  He was taking his revenge way too far.  It wasn't as if Riku cared for the kitschen—he cared for them no more and no less than wild animals—but it was about time the cycle his father had gotten himself into was broken.  He headed for the door to the outside.

"Wait!" Darius called after him.  "Where are you going?"

Riku didn't answer, taking to the air and rising up above the canyon walls.  From there, he veered toward the gate, picking up speed as he went.  The adrenaline released by flight was strengthening him, making him feel less tired.

Outside the gates, the Wilds were less fuzzy to him, and he opened his mind and scanned for his father's signature.  Flying slowly, he kept searching in wider and wider arcs, unable to find him until he had stretched his senses to the limit.  There, he faintly sensed his father almost outside of his range completely.  Pinpointing where he was, he took off in that direction at top speed.  He didn't want his father to feel him coming and flee, so he kept his energy to the minimum that he could and maintain his velocity.  He had a feeling that, if Sephiroth knew he was coming, he would avoid him, possibly losing him entirely.

_Please, let me get there in time_, he prayed, his hair whipped back by the wind.

Reaching his destination, he landed hard, out of breath.  His lack of sleep had caught up to him, and he knelt there for several minutes, panting, his heart racing.  He was on a rocky hillside, and there were plenty of ledges and outcroppings for him to search through, which didn't thrill him at all.  He could scan the area again, but he would give his own presence away from this close.

After a while, his breath and heartbeat calm again, he climbed up to the top of a large boulder to get the lay of the land, and found to his surprise that he was directly above his father.  Sephiroth was crouching on all fours on a small ledge, watching but unable to be seen from the ground below.  His sword was strapped to his back.  He was too occupied with watching his quarry to notice Riku's presence, shielded as it was.

Riku shifted his gaze to the ground below his father.  A group of kitschen, perhaps a family group, had set up camp on the hillside.  The nomadic species was primitive by ylfe standards, yet Riku recognized things that indicated that they would eventually be an advanced society.  Perhaps not as advanced as ylfen, but their clothes, movable shelters, and weapons were done with the craft and skill of a people in a constant state of change and improvement.

They were shorter and stockier than ylfen, their skin darker from prolonged exposure to the sun.  They were neither ugly nor beautiful, very plain-faced and rough.  Their eyes and hair were black.  Piercings and body art were common practices, and they seemed to Riku to indicate the social status of the individual.

Riku's sharp ears picked up their speech, and it sounded to him to be a distant relative of the ylfe language.  Perhaps the two races once used the same tongue, or were influenced by the same source.  Ylfen spoke a smoother, softer language, faster and more intricate than what the kitschen spoke.  When Riku had arrived into the One World, he had begun learning the ylfe language before he even realized it, a harmless manipulation spell placed on his mind to allow him to understand what they were saying and answer in the same way, the spell removed when he no longer needed it.  He had never asked, but he suspected his father was the caster.

He saw his father draw his sword and stand, revealing himself to the kitschen below him.  A cry of alarm rose up, and they tried to flee, but the powerful ylfe warrior cast a spellbinding on them, freezing them in place.  Dropping down to the ground, he was head-and-shoulders above most of them, and he spoke in low, strange words.  Riku realized with a start that he was using the kitsche tongue.  He hadn't known that his father knew it.

Sephiroth paused in front of a young male, and Riku suddenly sprang from his hiding place, making his way down the slope as quickly as he could over the rocky ground.  He had waited too long to move.  Sephiroth had singled out his victim, and had raised his sword to strike.

_No!_ Riku thought.  _They can't even run!  This isn't fair!_  "STOP!" he shouted, lunging and tackling his father to the ground.

They hit the ground hard, and as soon as they did, Sephiroth's spellbinding broke, and the kitschen quickly fled.  The two ylfen fell prey to gravity, rolling and sliding down the stony hill.

When they stopped, Sephiroth threw his son to the ground with a hoarse cry, the point of his sword digging into the tender skin of Riku's neck.  He froze, his eyes wide, when he realized it was Riku whose throat he was about to slit.  Trembling, breathing hard, he let go of Riku's collar and backed away, his sword falling to the ground.

Riku sat up painfully, feeling like he was one huge bruise.

"What are you doing here, Riku?" Sephiroth asked, shaken.

"I didn't want you to kill, Father," Riku answered.  "This isn't right—"  He wasn't able to finish, knocked to the ground again by his father's fist smashing into the side of his head.

"We've been over this already, Riku," Sephiroth bit.  "Don't hinder me, or I'll kill you, too!"

"You would, wouldn't you?!" Riku cried, somehow managing to stay conscious, dragging himself back up from the hard ground.  "You would kill your son just to take the life of some random kitsche, wouldn't you?!  Something is seriously wrong with you, and you _refuse_ to let me help you overcome it!  _Bastard!!_"  Riku was seething with rage.  He didn't care anymore that his father was mad.  He just couldn't take being accused and beaten for trying to help anymore.

"I don't want to overcome it," his father hissed.  "This little game you're playing will end messily for you, Riku, unless you pull out early and mind your own business."

"_IT'S NOT A GAME!!!!!_" Riku roared, lunging at his father again.  He attacked blindly in his rage, punching, tearing, clawing.  The smell of blood crazed him, and he couldn't stop.  _He couldn't stop…_

Finally, his energy ran down, forcing his movements to cease.  He looked down at his father, breathing heavily, sweat running down his face.  He had beaten his father bloody, and Sephiroth lay very still, apparently unconscious.  Riku couldn't do anything more than sit there, too drained to move.

He yelped in surprise when Sephiroth suddenly threw him off, knocking him to the ground.

"Well, well," Sephiroth chuckled, sitting up awkwardly.  "It looks like you inherited my gift for blind rages after all."

"A-are you…okay?" Riku asked, feeling a sick sensation roll through him as he realized just how much he had damaged his father.

"Not really, but I can still move," Sephiroth said with a wry smile.  He had presumably regained his composure, no longer gripped by a need to kill.

"I-I'm sorry!" Riku swallowed.

"Don't be sorry," Sephiroth shook his head.  "It's been a long time since someone has hurt me this badly.  I think I needed that."

"Eh?" Riku blinked.

Sephiroth sighed and didn't immediately reply.  He instead pulled his knees up and put his arms around them, bowing his head forward.  He appeared to be thinking.

"Father?" Riku ventured, going closer.  He winced as he moved, pained from the fall and getting punched in the face.  He knew, though, that he probably felt miles better than his father, and Sephiroth wasn't showing much outward discomfort.  Riku noticed that he was shaking, and he moved closer.

Sephiroth was crying.

"R-Riku…" he shivered, sounding lost and frightened.

Riku didn't answer, instead putting his arms around his father and squeezing as tightly as he dared.

"I-if it means that much to you," Sephiroth said after several minutes of silence, "I'll try to stop."

"You mean it?" Riku asked cautiously.

Sephiroth nodded.

"Thank you, Father," Riku sighed, greatly relieved.

They stayed like that for quite some time, the father weeping for his lost love and the son trying to comfort him as best he could.  Above them, back at the kitsche campsite, some of the stronger males came back to hastily gather up the group's belongings and slip away hopefully unnoticed.  They didn't dare bother the two ylfen farther down the slope.

Father and son healed each other, their energies mixing and enhancing each other, closing the wounds and erasing the bruises quicker than if one worked alone.

"I'll remember this," Sephiroth smiled wanly.  "You're just as dangerous to upset as I am."

"Not something I'm proud of," Riku said, then gaped widely in a yawn.

"Tired?" Sephiroth asked.  "Come on, then."  He was also exhausted, despite the healing.  He put his arms around his listing son and they winked out, reappearing outside the gates of Aerie.  When they got home, they went to their respective bedrooms and didn't come out for quite a long time.  Samara and Darius were left to wonder what happened until one of them emerged again.  They had expected—though hadn't look forward to—their father to return with a bloody skull, like he did every year on this day.  Had Riku worked a miracle?

"Well," Sephiroth said quietly when his two older children had asked him what had happened.  He seemed subdued.  "Everything has to end sometime, eh?"

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Yay!  I got this chapter done relatively early!  I hope it's good, then.  I don't want it to seem rushed.  Is it a good thing that I had Riku get Sephiroth to stop killing for revenge?  I mean, as Riku said, Sephiroth is taking it a little too far and killing kitschen just to kill kitschen.  I hope I didn't disappoint too many of you.  I just don't think drawing out revenge forever is a very healthy thing to do.  Revenge itself is a dicey business, period, and it runs the risk of spinning totally out of control.  Also, I'm hoping the dream sequence came out well.  I'm still wondering if I do that sort of stuff okay.  Let me know how you like this chapter in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	12. Silver Devil

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Twelve:  Silver Devil 

Riku felt like a fool.  He had been trying to grasp the teleportation process—something proving most difficult, even with a psychic's ease of learning—and had decided to see how he had gotten along.  He had gone outside the gate of Aerie's barrier and fazed out, aiming to faze back in at the gates of the nearest settlement, the forest city of Melyrn.  He had instead found himself miles from any city or town and no idea how far it was back to Aerie.  He didn't want to risk zigzagging aimlessly across the planet in an effort to get back, so he instead just took to the air and headed toward the nearest cluster of ylfe life that he could sense in the area.  It felt like a relatively small settlement, but it was better than being lost out in the Wilds.  From there, he'd be able to sooner or later get back to Aerie.

_That was, by far, the most idiotic thing I've done in a long time_, Riku chided himself.  _I should have at least told someone what I was doing, instead of just going out there on a whim.  I'm probably going to worry some people sick before long._  A phrase Riku had found himself muttering quite often was running through his mind:  Live and learn.

He landed on the pinnacle of a high hill, the tallest land formation in the area, and looked around.  He could not yet see the town for which he was making.  There were huge expanses in the Wilds where no ylfe lived and few traveled, and Riku seemed lucky enough to have landed himself in one.  At first glance, the area seemed harmless, even inviting.  It was green, with grass, bushes, and trees covering much of the landscape.  He could see a small river off to the south, could see signs of abundant wildlife.  However, when he began to "see" with more than just his eyes, he sensed that kitschen frequented this area quite often.  This was one of the areas they were most commonly found, which accounted for the ylfen finding elsewhere to live.  The two species usually did not actively try to antagonize each other, but if they crossed paths, the results could be ugly.

Riku sat down on the hilltop, resting his chin in his hands.  He was beginning to feel hungry, and wondered if he should catch something to eat, find some fruit or nuts among the local plantlife, or wait until he hit civilization.  He had basic survival skills, so he knew how to catch, clean, and cook small animals, as well as seek out edible plants.  He just didn't know if he felt like doing so or not.

He found himself gazing at a kitsche settlement he could see a little way off.  It had been at least five centuries—many kitsche lifetimes—since Sephiroth had ceased his regular hunting and killing of the nomadic people.  Riku had had no direct contact with them since, but he had watched them from afar, observing the changes that took place over time.  He was seen by other ylfen as awfully curious in the matter, but he paid them no mind.  One of the subjects that most interested him in school was evolution, both biological and societal.  He liked to see which path, out of the hundreds of possible paths, that evolution took a certain species or society down, which result it would come to without the members of that species or society having any conscious knowledge that they were in a worldwide cycle of change.

Evolution was too slow a process for any one human to observe, but Riku was lucky.  He had a lifespan that took him far beyond human scientists and historians, and he could remember from his own memory what things were like and compare them to how things are now.  His own people, the ylfen, seemed frozen in time, like evolution had overlooked them and left them in a time long forgotten by the rest of the world.

_It's because we're so long-lived_, he thought to himself.  _Biological evolution can only go forward at the pace of birth and death of whatever species you're looking at.  One being can't evolve into a different creature than they were born as, and each generation is only infinitesimally different than the last._  Riku had often wondered how long it was since ylfe reached their current level and "stopped" evolving.  It had to have been a long time ago, even by ylfe standards, meaning the origins of the species was several times longer ago than that.  He had stopped wondering quite a few years ago, knowing that he would only start bleeding from the ears if he tried to figure it out himself.  As for societal evolution, the ylfe seemed content to let their way of life be, meaning change in that would come very slowly and without any efforts from them.

Kitschen, on the other hand, were in a constant state of change.  They hadn't changed much physically since Sephiroth had stopped killing them—a tiny bit taller on average, perhaps—but their society had greatly altered.  They had not yet grasped the idea of agriculture, so they still survived mainly on meat and wild fruit and nuts, but their hunting methods had improved, making their success rate go up considerably.  Their weapons were more efficient, smaller and made more skillfully than Riku remembered they were five hundred years ago.  The shelters they used looked more elaborate, though still easily moved, and their clothes showed more skill and time in their making.  Riku never heard much of the kitsche language, and what little he did hear he didn't understand, so how little or how much that had changed, he was unaware.

He stood up, shook off his thoughts, and started down the hill.  He may as well conserve his energy and just walk.  It would take longer than if he flew, but he didn't know how far he had to go until Aerie.  Besides, he felt like walking for once.  It's easier to enjoy nature if you're on the ground.

He walked steadily, keeping the sense he got of the ylfe town directly in front of him, so he didn't stray off course and take longer than he needed.  It had been a little over an hour since he reached the bottom of the hill when he heard something.  It was labored breathing.  It sounded female, and it was coming from one spot.  He had just entered a spray of trees, so he couldn't see who was making the noise.  She sounded either strained or in pain, and he felt an instinctive feeling of sympathy go through him.  Moved by both that sympathy and curiosity, he sought out the source…

…and stopped dead in his tracks when he found it.  It was a kitsche female, adult but still very young.  She was on her back, her knees bent and her feet planted firmly on the ground, and in her hands was a strip of tough leather, which she bit down on hard whenever she tensed up and strained.

She was giving birth.

Riku swallowed, knowing he should leave immediately.  Kitsche females went outside the community to birth their young, but they never went alone.  Close by, out of sight, there were always a male, usually her mate, armed and watchful to keep away any predators attracted by the smell.

Before he could leave, though, he suddenly had a sharp bone spearhead against his pale throat.  A young male, the baby's father, was between Riku and the female, rage burning in his dark eyes.  Riku instinctively put up his hands as a sign that he wasn't going to attack, but had to spring backward to avoid getting his throat impaled.  He seized hold of the kitsche's nearest wrist, pulling him toward himself and getting a hold of the upper arm, as well.  The kitsche snarled, but before he could attack again, Riku had jerked him into the air, up over his head, and down again hard onto the ground.

Taking no chances, Riku launched himself into the air.  He had been so focused on keeping the ylfe town in front of him that he hadn't realized that he had wandered a little too closely to the kitsche camp that he had seen from the hilltop.  Too late, he realized that, in his haste to get away, he had taken off in the direction of the camp, and was now flying over it.  Cursing viciously, he abruptly changed directions, but a searing pain in his right arm made him falter and almost fall.  To his horror, he saw a long, brown-feathered arrow skewering his upper arm, the bloody point glistening in the sunlight.  It was a poisoned arrow, the pain Riku felt from it far exceeding the pain he would have felt if just a plain arrow had pierced his flesh.

He was losing speed and altitude, the enhanced pain starting to overcome his concentration.

_Damn it!_ he swore.  _Focus!  Fly straight!_

Another rammed into his lower ribs, making him scream hoarsely and lose all control.  He plummeted to the ground, paralyzed with pain and powerless to slow his descent.  When he hit the ground, a grinding _crack_ resounded in his ears.

Pain.  _PAIN._

He moaned piteously.  His hip had broken on impact, flooding his already frazzled nerves with pure agony, blinding and deafening him in its intensity.  He hadn't even time to send a distress signal to anyone who may be close enough to hear, when the anguish overloaded and overwhelmed his tough yet still breakable system.

He fainted dead away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Nnngh…"

Riku awoke slowly, aware of an ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of his being.  It was dark, and he could see two of the world's ten moons immediately above him.  Why was he sleeping outside?

His memory suddenly came back to him, and he jerked in surprise.  The movement sent spikes of unbearable pain shooting through him, and he barely bit back a scream.  That's right.  He had been shot twice with poisoned arrows, and his hip was broken.  His hip felt mangled and abused, as if it had been jostled repeatedly after being broken.

He managed to turn his head, a sick feeling of dread washing over him.  He was in the center clearing of the kitsche camp, off to the side and partly in shadows.  They had dragged him here after bringing him down, unmindful of the massive injury he had taken in the fall.

_Why haven't they killed me yet?_ Riku thought.  He was glad to be alive, but the pain he was in didn't make living seem much better than dying.  He turned his attention to his own body, trying to stave off the hurt.  His mind was clouded, both from his screaming nerves and from the poison on the arrowheads, and he had to fight for a long time to get the pain to lessen.  Even then, it was still paralyzing, but he could at least think a little straighter.

_Heal_, he thought.  _Must heal._

A blood-freezing scream ripped through the air, and every kitsche in that camp jumped.  Riku had tried to cast a healing spell on himself, but where he should have felt a soothing coolness, he felt nothing but a mind-numbing pain.  The poison, though not lethal, had the effect of making it extremely painful to do much of anything, even use magic.  The kitschen, realizing what it was, went back to their business.  Riku, on the other hand, lay trembling on the cold ground, barely keeping tears from falling.

_Why?!  Why?!_ Riku mentally cried.  What could possibly be in this poison to make magic painful like this?

A small group of males were relatively near to him, speaking amongst each other.  Among them was the young one who had attacked Riku in defense of his mate.  He looked stiff and sore from Riku throwing him to the ground, but he was otherwise fine.

Not knowing exactly why he did so, Riku gathered all his remaining strength and turned his attention to the conversation.  Largely leaving magic out of it, he let his awareness spread out over them, utilizing as exclusively as he could his telepathy.  Maybe he could understand what they were saying, the idea if not the words themselves.

That new poison the witchdoctor concocted seems to work as expected, one said.  The ylfe doesn't seem to be able to do anything without hurting.

How does it work? another asked.

How should _I_ know? the first snapped.  If medicines and poisons were so easily understood, wouldn't _everyone_ be able to make them?

I guess, the second one admitted.

Riku groaned inwardly.  Until the poison wore off, he'd be unable to heal himself.  He highly doubted he'd live until it wore off, considering who had him.

Who cares about the poison? a third cried.  Today is the tribe's lucky day!  We brought down the Silver Devil!

On his first appearance in many generations, a fourth agreed.  This is a lucky day for our entire race.  He hadn't the chance to kill anyone yet, and he won't ever again have that chance.

The tribe leaders have ordered him sacrificed to make sure he doesn't rise from the dead and come back again, the first said.  It's why we weren't allowed to kill him where he fell.

_They think I'm my father_, Riku thought groggily.  Sephiroth's yearly killings must have made him a legend among the kitsche, a creature to fear and avoid, the sight of him heralding coming death.  He must be the "Silver Devil" they are talking about.  Since Sephiroth had had no contact with kitschen in the centuries since Riku had gotten him to stop his killing, no kitsche alive in the past several generations had actually seen the Silver Devil, and Riku's coloring and stature would have made the description in the legend fit him just as well as it fit his father.

He looks just as the legends say, the youth who had attacked Riku said.  That hair and those eyes…even kitschen know that those are exceedingly rare colors, especially together.  It has to be him.  Who else would look like that?

_No!_ Riku cried mentally.  _I look like him, but I'm not him!_  Using sheer force of will, he rose up a little father above the pain, gritting his teeth as he cast the same spell that let him learn ylfe on himself so he could communicate with the kitsche.  I'm not…him, he croaked with no small difficulty, the kitsche words difficult to get his tongue around, especially in his state, and most of his concentration taken up with forcing the pain back.

The group near him and several others around them looked at Riku in surprise.  He was weak, agonized, and half-dead, yet he had suddenly spoken in their own language.

Don't lie, one of the males near him said.  Of course you are.  Who else looks that?

My father, Riku answered.  It was my father who killed…my father who hunted…

Don't lie! the kitsche said again angrily, gripping Riku's collar.  You'll die for what you've done!  Your blood will spill on the rocks tonight, and it will nourish nothing!  You—

I'M NOT THE ONE YOU WANT, YOU STUPID KITSCHE BASTARD!!!!! Riku cut him off, his anger fueling his waning strength.  You'll never catch him!  You can never even _hope_ to catch him!  He can kill a thousand of you without even getting a scratch!  What do you have that could stand up against him?!

Bring him, a voice  said from around the bonfire burning at the center of the camp.  The elder is ready to perform the sacrifice.

No more lies, the kitsche who had a hold of Riku grinned nastily.  It's about time you ageless monsters began dying by kitsche hands again.  It was true that the number of ylfe deaths due to kitsche attacks had declined in recent years, and it apparently displeased the more belligerent kitschen.

Riku tried to growl, but it came out a small whine, the pain beginning to overtake him again as he was unceremoniously dragged over to the fire.  He saw his death in the eyes of those around him, and he was too weak to fight back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sephiroth was troubled.  Riku was nowhere in Aerie, and he had looked everywhere.  Cloud, Samara, and Darius had searched, too, but they found no more than Sephiroth did.  It wasn't like Riku to go someplace without at least saying that he was going, and he had disappeared without a word.

It was full dark now, and still no sign or word from him.  Fleeting thoughts had gone through Sephiroth's mind, but he shuddered and didn't want to think about them.  Finally, though, he couldn't ignore it any longer.  He left the house and headed for the city gates, calling for the guards on duty to open up.

Standing outside the gates, he stretched his senses outward.  If he couldn't pinpoint his location, perhaps he could at least figure out what direction he had gone in.  The trail left behind by a person's individual spiritual signature was faint and hard to track, but it was there for those who knew how to find it.

He found his son to the northeast, and an abrupt horror came over Sephiroth.  He was smack in the middle of what had to be a kitsche camp, and his spirit was weak, wavering.  He could very well die in a very short time.

Sephiroth almost howled in dismay and anger.  These heathens had taken his soulmate away from him! What _more_ did they want?!

He was gone, teleported away from the Aerie gates.  He would rip out all their hearts with his own hands if that were what it took to save his youngest child.  That tribe was doomed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The elder of the tribe was speaking some kind of prayer or incantation.  Riku had withdrawn the spell to understand them.  He didn't care anymore what they were saying.  He was being sacrificed to some god he had never even heard of, he was miles from home, and he was sick with weakness and worry.

He feared for his father's mental health.  Sephiroth had lost his soulmate to kitschen, and had suffered centuries of torture because of it.  Riku had finally broken through to his father's mind, had finally begun to help him repair the damage it caused, had finally begun to enable his father to live in relative peace until his time to die came.  What would Riku's death at kitsche hands do to him?

_He's so strong, yet so fragile_, Riku thought, morose.  _He could reverse the repairs he's made in a second.  He—_

He was right behind the elder.

Riku's eyes widened, his jaw dropping open in surprise and fear.  The entire crowd of spectators had frozen in horror.  The animalistic fury in Sephiroth's eyes made them blaze almost white, and his sword was poised to strike.  Just as the elder turned round…

"Die!" Sephiroth hissed, and his sword came down and cleaved the elder's skull in half, spraying blood and bits of brain tissue everywhere.  Without another word, Sephiroth grabbed the neck of the corpse and threw it into the fire with such force that the wood was scattered, sparks flying everywhere.

The kitschen were in a panic, all trying to flee as fast as they could.  Sephiroth, however, had no intention of sparing any of them, even the children, and he had thrown up around the camp a barrier-like field that repelled living things.  The kitschen were fenced into their camp.

"Father…" Riku managed.

"Don't try to stop me, Riku," Sephiroth warned, already in the process of conjuring up an attack.

"It hurts!" Riku moaned, not caring what Sephiroth did to these kitschen.  All he wanted was for the pain to leave him.

"Sin Harvest," Sephiroth growled, and every heart in the camp but his and Riku's stopped.  As if to make sure they were dead, the ground suddenly erupted in a maelstrom of fire, engulfing and incinerating everything.  Sephiroth and Riku were in the eye of the storm, unharmed.

"I n-need a healing," Riku said quietly as his father knelt down beside him.  He tensed up and shrieked when Sephiroth touched his hip, as if to see if it was broken or just swollen from some impact.  Sephiroth swore harshly.

"What _happened_ to you, Riku?!" he cried.  "What did they _do_?!"

"Shot me," Riku explained slowly.  "Two arrows.  Poisoned tips.  My hip is from the fall.  I broke it."  He was having to take a breath every few words, and he was sweating.  "Poison makes me hurt more."

Sephiroth took a hissing breath.  "There are some plants with chemicals in them that enhance pain.  One or more of them are probably what this poison is made from."

"P-please," Riku moaned.  "I n-need—!"

"I should take you home, first," Sephiroth said, and Riku felt a white power surround and fold over them.  The night faded out, and when it faded back in, he found that they were just outside Aerie's main gates.  Sephiroth hesitated, then picked his son up from the ground as gently as he could.

Riku yowled.

"I'm sorry, Riku!" Sephiroth apologized, holding him as still and steady as he could.  "I have to get you into the city!  We can't just stay out here!"

Riku didn't reply, merely gritting his teeth so hard that he worried that they might break.  Only a little further, and he would be healed.  Just a little further…

"Damn it!" Sephiroth bit as he laid Riku back down on the ground inside the gates, puzzling Riku as to why he didn't continue on toward home.  He was tired.  Sin Harvest on so many at once had worn him down.  Still, he couldn't let his son suffer any more than he already has.  He _had_ to attempt at least a partial healing right here.

"Oh, my," a soft voice said, startling both father and son.  A woman was nearby, and neither had noticed her.  She was now coming toward them.

"What are you doing up here this late at night?" Sephiroth asked her as she knelt down unasked next to Riku, who was getting close to fainting again.

"I could ask you the same thing, though your reason is more obvious," the woman answered.  Sephiroth had no idea who this woman was.  The moonlight showed that she had strawberry-blonde hair, but that didn't help him identify her.  "If you must know, my brother and I have just come here from Melyrn to visit some cousins, and the gates had just barely closed behind us before they opened up again for you."  Sephiroth noticed that a man stood a little apart from them, apparently the brother she mentioned.

"Can you help my son?" he asked.

"Yes," the woman answered, sounding troubled.  "I am a healer."  She was examining Riku, and shuddered at what she found.  "What _happened_?!"

"Kitschen," Sephiroth spat.  "That's all you need to know."

The woman nodded, wordless, and placed her hands on Riku's torso.  Before he could cry out or even jerk away, he was suddenly flooded with a powerful healing spell, which penetrated deep into his body, seeking out all of the poison to smother and neutralize it.  His wounds began to close and his bones to mend, and sweet relief from pain washed gently over him.

The sudden change of sensation was too much for him, and he fell back down into the dark world of his subconscious.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Well, there's chapter twelve.  I don't know how it turned out, truthfully.  I was kinda sleepy as I wrote it, but not sleepy enough to not be able to sit at the computer and type.  This chapter and chapter eleven are probably the closest looks we'll get at kitschen.  I don't plan to have them figure into the story much after this, and they'll most likely return to the presence they had before as the largely unknown outsiders who caused much of Sephiroth's grief and madness.  If you like kitschen and want to see more, sorry.  So, what do you guys think?  Tell me in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

I've noticed that I make Riku bleed a lot in this story, or at least get hurt a lot.  *nervous giggle*  ^_^;;


	13. Invasions

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Sorry about this chapter being so late.  I got really busy over the holidays—that's what I get for working in a toy store during the Christmas season—and I just now got my Muse back.  I hope this chapter is worth the wait.  I just want to let you guys know one thing:  I appreciate the gestures and that you feel this fic is worth following, but if you're going to give me feedback, at least tell me how you like the fic, instead of just demanding (sometimes like I'm deliberately not posting) the next update.  It's nice to know that you guys are eager to read more, but if you're already harried and overworked and stressing that you're not writing as much as you'd like, getting feedback that merely reminds you how little you're updating can really piss you off.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Thirteen:  Invasions 

The first thing he felt was no pain.

_No pain…_ his fogged brain thought slowly.  The last thing he remembered was a world of pain, coursing through his veins and concentrating at his hip.  He had seriously wanted to die then, the only plausible escape from such agony.

Then, he remembered something else.  The memories were faint and hazy, as if he had experienced them through a light doze.  He could remember a woman's voice mingling with his father's, their words too distant and blurred to make out.  A sudden flood of pain relief immediately followed, and blackness had overtaken him almost before he could recognize the abrupt change.

_Someone healed me_, he concluded, waking further.  Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

"Welcome back," a voice said from his bedside.  "Since you've finally calmed down, I've never seen you sleep so soundly before."

"Father," Riku acknowledged, looking toward the voice.  Sephiroth had pulled Riku's desk chair over to sit on, and he had apparently been watching over his son as he rested.

Sephiroth nodded.

"What do you mean, 'Since I've finally calmed down'?" Riku asked.

"Well, you lost consciousness right from the start," Sephiroth explained, "and you seemed completely dead to the world for a few minutes.  After a while, though, you started to scream and struggle, like you were being hurt all over again.  Your eyes were open for most of it, but I doubt you were ever truly awake."

"But…why?" Riku asked, pushing himself up slowly.  "Healing isn't supposed to hurt."

"When as far gone as you were," Sephiroth said, "the body can often confuse sensory signals, mixing up the pain of the injury and the relief of the healing.  And, the contrast between the two is often drastic enough to shock the system, making it worse.  As far as I know, that's what happened to you."

Riku placed a hand over a spot on his lower ribcage, the place the second arrow had pierced him.  His shirt was open, so when he looked down, he expected to see a scar.  There was none, only smooth skin.

"This is a good healing job," Riku observed.  "Did you do it?"

"No," Sephiroth replied, shaking his head.  "I was too worn out to give you much help at the time."

"Who did, then?" Riku asked.

Sephiroth pointed past him.  "She did."

Riku's eyes widened in surprise as his head whipped around.  Unnoticed until now, another person was in the bed, as well.  Fast asleep beside him, a woman lay there on her side, facing him.

"She put all she had into helping you, she did," Sephiroth said.  "Wore herself out.  I doubt she's ever taken on a healing job as drastic as you were."

"Oh…" Riku replied, still surprised.  Why hadn't he sensed another person so close to him?  He should have realized she was there before now!  Then again, he was still felt a little disoriented, which would explain why he missed sensing her.  "Why is she here in my bed?" he asked, looking back at his father.  "Isn't there a guestroom she could use?"

"Oh, she fell asleep barely a minute after finishing with you, and I hadn't the heart to move her," Sephiroth said with a strange smile.  Riku blinked.  It seemed an almost knowing smile, but what would that mean?  Did he know something about her that Riku had yet to realize?

Riku looked back at her.

"Well, my work is done here," Sephiroth said, standing up.  "I best leave you two alone.  When she wakes up, you treat her nicely, Riku."  Without waiting for a reply, Sephiroth turned and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  Turning toward his own bedroom, he walked silently for several minutes, deep in thought.  He had felt something briefly between his son and that girl.  With a healing job that extensive, he was sure that their minds had touched at least once.  The resulting tension had to have been—

A searing pain erupted in his chest, making him cry out hoarsely and clutch at his heart.  It felt as if a cold, bitter hook had been driven deeply into the beating organ, and was now attempting to tear it out, pulling relentlessly at the mass of muscle and blood vessels.  The pain increased relentlessly, and he choked on his own scream, falling to his knees hard.

"No…" he whimpered, shaking his head.  "No!  No, no, no!  Not now!  Please!"

He thought he heard a cry of protest echoing through his mind, and the assault worsened.  His throat was blocked off, making a scream impossible, and he completely collapsed to the floor.  He writhed as if possessed, clawing at his chest, beating uselessly against the force that had suddenly seized him, intent on dragging him away.

_Mine!_ that same elusive voice howled within his head.  _Miiiiiiiiiine!_

He was losing his grip.  The hallway around him began to fade, and something was grasping him all over, as if dozens of groping hands had descended upon him, grabbing and pawing at him in an attempt to take him away.  Somehow, through the anguish that enveloped his heart, he felt a tear begin to open up…

Desperate beyond reason, he gathered every bit of his power that he still had control of through the smothering invasion, and threw all of it full-force against the intruder.  The hold on him slipped and released.  A scream of stunned shock reverberated through his skull, and the intruder suddenly vanished.  He was free.

He lay there for several minutes, curled in upon himself.  The pain was mostly gone, but a lingering ache still surrounded his heart.  Sweat dripped down his skin, and he shivered.

Finally, emotion came back to him as he stumbled to his feet, and tears surged from his glittering eyes.  "F-forgive m-me…!" he sobbed, hating himself for his actions.  Overcome with self-loathing and shame, he retreated to his inner sanctum at the end of the hallway.  No one saw him again for several days.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku half-lay in bed, propped up on his elbows, all his attention on the tallish woman who was his unexpected bedmate.  She was sleeping peacefully, lying on her side with her hands up near her face.  A serene expression was on her face, suggesting no dreams.

Why was he so attracted to her?  Wait—was it _attraction_ he was feeling or something else?  Curiosity?  He wasn't quite sure.  He just knew that something about her, or perhaps something in him, compelled him to study her closely.

So focused was he on her that he failed to notice the conflict his father was involved with just down the hallway.

He reached out tentatively to touch her wavy hair.  It was a light strawberry-blonde, and he guessed that it fell to about the same length as his when she was standing upright.

"Who are you?" he whispered to her, looking back at her relaxed face.  She had a fresh, pinkish complexion, which made his exceedingly pale skin look even lighter.  Living on the sunny Destiny Islands as a boy, he had always had a tan—as tan as his skin tone would allow—but after living as long as he had in this canyon community, he had lightened considerably, until his skin seemed hardly darker than his hair.

With only half of his brain registering what he was doing, he moved forward and lay down very close to her, close enough to hear her quiet breathing.  Something in him began to tremble, becoming excited.  He could smell the faint scent of soap on her skin, could feel her warmth as he pressed lightly against her.  One arm went around her, and his fingers encountered feathers.  Looking over her, he saw a red-feathered wing folded against her back.

Lying back down, he realized that his eyes were glued to her face.  Part of him wishing that she would wake up, the other part praying that she remained asleep, he closed the few inches between them and kissed her.

He jerked back suddenly, feeling both shocked and confused.  He had adopted well the ylfe lifestyle of sexual casualness, and had had his fair share of partners—had even experimented with a few men—and one-night stands.  His striking, almost aching beauty coupled with the exoticness of being a half-blood made him an object of desire among the other ylfen.  However, he had never before gone so far as to kiss someone he didn't know for at least a little while first.  He didn't just jump into it with any pretty face.  He didn't even know this woman's name!  He had never seen her before in his life!  She was a complete stranger to him!  She was—

She was awake.

He gasped, his eyes going wide.  Glittering green met soft brown, and he felt himself falling.  He was sucked irresistibly into her gaze, plunging endlessly downward, a cacophony of emotions and thoughts suddenly swarming and nearly overwhelming him.  He realized that they were clutching at each other, staring intently into each other's eyes.  She was just as shaky and short-of-breath as he was.

"Leiya," he finally breathed, saying her name as if he had known it all his life.  "Leiya…you—"

"Soulmates!" she laughed, finally breaking their gaze and pressing closer, her head against his chest.  "I knew it!  I _knew_ it!"

"What?" he asked, confused, though he tightened his hold on her.

"As I healed you," she explained, "our minds touched several times.  I felt something within you, within me, but it can never be fully realized by either soulmate without eye contact."  She inhaled deeply, as if breathing in his scent.  "Riku…"

They lay together for several minutes, content just to be close to one another, but Riku felt a need growing steadily inside him.  Part of it was undoubtedly sexual, but a deeper, stronger need was swirling around within him, urging him on.

_To do what?_ he wondered briefly, but when he looked down at her, it was obvious.  _A joining of souls…_

He was suddenly nervous, intimidated, perhaps even frightened.  He was a telepath, and though he knew how to block his mind off so he wasn't constantly hearing others' thoughts, he knew what it was like for part of his mind to be exposed, laid bare for anyone with the know-how to discern his surface emotions and thoughts.  The privacy of the inner part of his mind, the part inaccessible to anyone he didn't personally allow in, was cherished, a blessed retreat when life seemed overwhelming.  His core, the very center of his inner mind, was completely inaccessible to outsiders.  He didn't want anyone in there, and no one could force their way in without completely shredding his soul—and no being had ever had that kind of power, in any world or dimension.

A joining would penetrate those barriers.  Soulmates' souls and minds were entwined and blended completely.  Though there would still be individuality and independence, they would essentially be sharing the same "space", the same core.  They would be sensitive to each other's emotions and thoughts, their feelings and desires forever connected and harmonized, bound together by a permanent love and passion.  Though their love would not _dominate_ or control every aspect of their lives, it would surround and embrace them.  They would be two and one at the same time.

Even as he tried to reassure himself that love between soulmates celebrated and preserved their differences as well as their similarities, he could feel himself wanting to recoil.  His core would be opened to her, the deepest and most private part of him laid bare for her to see, all his secret thoughts and wishes and desires.  He had heard over and over and over again that it was the best feeling in the world to be joined, but the primitive part of his mind was still terrified of feeling invaded, violated, raped.  The thought of being two and one at the same time was too much of a paradox to be logically accepted.

_Every part of her will be exposed to you, too_, a small voice said.  _She will be just as vulnerable and open as you will be._

_It won't take long_, another voice said.  _The hardest part will be over with before you know it, and then you'll know paradise._

He felt himself relax, his fears dying away.  Finding her was the best thing to ever happen to him.  He should be rejoicing, not fearful.

"Let me do it," Leiya suddenly said, looking up at him.

"Hm?" he blinked.

"Let me lead, Riku," she said.  "You're nervous, so just follow what I do."

Riku nodded, grateful she had offered.  Though they would both be participating, both pushing into the other's mind while receiving the other's awareness, one partner took a slight lead, initiating every action and allowing the other to follow.  It was just as common for the woman to be the aggressor as it was for the man to be.

She settled down in his arms as he made himself comfortable.  He couldn't keep his heart from hammering in his chest as their minds opened to one another.

He felt something like a spike cautiously enter his surface thoughts, testing the waters before taking the plunge.  At the same time, he felt his own awareness submerge shallowly in thoughts and feelings not his own, yet would be infinitely familiar to him before long.  He drew her in, receiving her easily, gently pushing a little deeper into her.  It was starting out simple.  Everything always did.  The first of four barriers, the one surrounding the entire mind, had been successfully breached.

They encountered the second barrier, which separated the outer mind from the inner mind, at the same time.  Riku hesitated, breathing slowly and deliberately, but he felt her open up to him readily, allowing him in.  He followed suit, lowering his own defenses while diving down deeper into her.  They both shivered.  Their minds were swirling around each other, but they would not begin to blend yet.  None of this was permanent until their cores had been combined, everything happening at once at that one moment.

The third barrier, which separated the inner-inner mind from the outer-inner mind, proved more of an obstacle.  Their instincts did not allow them to merely fling open their doors to each other.  But, with gentle prodding and coaxing, they had both managed to slip through.  Riku was now breathing slightly harder than normal, and noticed that he was trembling softly.  She was shaking just as much as he.  Only his father had come so deep before, and only once had he done that.  An extensive healing job had required penetration of this depth, but Riku had been neither willing nor happy about it.  Sephiroth had pulled out as quickly and gently as possible, afraid of causing lasting damage.

Riku moaned lightly as Leiya encountered his deepest barrier, and felt her tighten her grip on him as he did the same.  Fear began to wake up in him again.  This wasn't going to be comfortable.  This was going to _hurt_…

He stiffened up and cried out as she suddenly pushed hard against that barrier, vaguely hearing her do the same in response to his own attempt to break through.  He was instinctively pulling away, yet struggling to lower his defenses to allow her in at the same time.  _No one_ but the soul's owner and their soulmate was allowed in here, and the armor around it was incredibly thick and tough.  If either of them had been unwilling, there would have been no way that the other would be able to get in.

_Come on_, he thought, panting and clutching at her tightly.  _Just a little more…just a little further…_  He was speaking to both his core and hers, urging them to relent and soften.  Fear was out of the question now.  He couldn't go back even if he had desperately wanted to.  To stop now would be completely against his ylfe nature, rejecting her as a soulmate.  It was unheard of.

It happened.

They pierced through simultaneously.  Riku froze, no longer aware of what she was doing.  His core blended instantly and completely with hers. Everything they had ever known and felt the other could now know and feel.  Their deepest and darkest secrets were dragged forcibly into the open, lying naked and shivering under the other's scrutiny.  It went on endlessly, an unstoppable storm of minds, until…

…finally, their bodies relaxed.  They lay there limply, gasping, mentally exhausted.  Riku thought hazily whether this is what it was like to be joined, if his mind was to forevermore be a confused ball of interconnected thoughts, when he felt it begin to settle.  His thoughts began to sift out from hers, organizing and falling into place again.  Slowly, little by little, order was restored to both of them, and though neither of them was sure how long they lay there in each other's arms, they did know finally what it was like to be joined.  They were two different and individual people, yet they grew from the same base, like a tree whose trunk split partway up.  They were two and one at the same time, their own identity unaltered, yet able to feel each other in the back of their minds at all times.

"Leiya…" he purred, holding her gently, kissing her again.  _I love you_, he thought, knowing it would reach her as clearly as if he had spoken it.  _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…_

Their kiss intensified, and he felt his fingers swiftly and easily undoing the fastenings to her clothes.  There was one more thing to make the joining complete, and he would take the lead this time.  She submitted eagerly, pulling him on top of her, moaning excitedly as her slender legs wound around him.

Yes…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, sated and drowsy, she lay on top of him in his bed.  He was on his back, his arms loosely around her, while she rested upon him, her head pillowed on his chest.  She wasn't sure if he was awake or not, but if he was, he was dozing.  He was stroking her hair rhythmically, very slow and soft. Aside from that and his breathing, he was very still.

Her own hand was gently brushing up and down his side, sliding down from his ribcage over his waist and hip, then back up again.  She had never seen a man so stunningly gorgeous, so achingly sexy.

_You're a lucky girl, Leiya_, she told herself.  _You would have been just as happy if he wasn't so good-looking, but it is a nice bonus._  He was lying on his hair, and she noticed a bit of it peeking out from under his waist.  It was stick-straight and hung to his hips when he stood, and she couldn't help but compare it to moonlight on a waterfall, white light flickering and glittering magically off the surface of the water.

Taking that bit of hair in her fingers, she examined it more closely.  It was very fine and soft, and the dim light from the lamps around the walls made it shine faintly.  No split ends.  What a lucky-ducky he was.  She, with her wavy hair, knew how it was to battle frizziness and split ends.

_Oh, well_, she sighed internally.  _Make the best with what you get._

She looked up at his face.  He was inches away from sleep, his eyes merely cracks of sparkling green.  How rare it was to have green eyes, even more so than it was to have silver hair.  She had never in her wildest dreams thought of meeting someone with both such exotic features, much less recognize him as her soulmate.  Not only that, but his father was exactly the same.  She wondered what the odds were that two consecutive generations would have such rare coloration in both their eyes and hair.

Leiya leaned up and kissed Riku softly, and was half surprised when he tightened his grip on her and returned the kiss with startling force for someone she thought on the brink of sleep.

"I love you," he whispered when they finally parted.

"Mmm…" she purred, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, feeling his warmth lulling her to sleep.

They both felt vulnerable from the joining, mentally stretched and sore.  They would feel this way for perhaps a few days, Leiya guessed sleepily.  The joining of souls was the spiritual equivalent to losing one's virginity, so it wouldn't be surprising that they feel much like they had after their first time sleeping with someone.  Just as sex was something the body had to get used to before it felt truly pleasurable, being joined was something the soul had to get used to before it could feel truly content.

Within moments, they had both dropped off to sleep.  Neither awoke for quite a long time, and it was at least a day before anyone saw them emerge from the room.

Halfway across the house, the lone occupant of the red rooms stirred in his sleep, his hands unconsciously going to his chest.  It wouldn't be long now…

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Ugh.  Sorry that this chapter took so long to write.  The second and third scenes were written several days after the first scene, and I have since experienced many mood swings, some good and some bad.  I am happy to say that my PlayStation2 is finally coming home from being repaired at Sony Service Center, and should be here in a few days.  Hopefully, that will dramatically cheer me up when it does arrive.  Anyway, I'd like to know how you like this chapter.  Let me know in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

Oh, and one of my anonymous reviewers has repeatedly asked me not to have Riku meet his soulmate (for what reason I have yet to discern).  Sorry to disappoint you, but I had already planned from the start to have him meet her, and the pleadings of one reader isn't enough to make me change my mind.  Just take comfort that she's not a Mary Sue.  She's neither perfect nor a self-portrait, and you'll notice that any ravings over beauty focused on _him_ instead of her.  I'm sure I'll still have readers who automatically assume that _any_ OC hooking up with the main character is a Mary Sue, but please refrain from bitching to me about it.  I already know you're out there, so waste neither my time nor yours and just go find something more to your taste to read.  Thank you.


	14. The Passing of the Sword

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Grr! I'm at least a week later with this than I wanted to be!  I really wish I could do something about being perpetually late like this.  -_-

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Fourteen:  The Passing of the Sword 

He'd lived for so very long.

Sephiroth, most powerful of the ylfen, had also survived to be the oldest to ever live.  His face and body, forever young and strong, unchanged by the passage of time, gave no hint of his age, but his eyes, his frighteningly deep and wounded eyes, spoke of thousands of years of experience.  He was old even by ylfe standards, his long life both amazing and disconcerting for most of the people around him.  His survival was not natural.  He should have died so long ago.

Fate would not let him, he recalled as he tended to his sword.  He was running a soft cloth up and down the slender blade, buffing the clean metal so it shined.  He was sitting on his bed as he did so, deep in thought.  Some cruel twist in destiny kept him alive, allowing him to recover impossibly, only so he could father a child centuries later with a woman who would barely figure into his life otherwise.  Not only was he left to live with his soul in ruins, but he had been manipulated into betraying the exclusive bond between soulmates.  However briefly, he had liaisoned with another woman.  He had nearly lost his remaining sanity when he had realized what he had done.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible, even in the silent room.  He had finished buffing the sword three times over while he was thinking of this.  Finally, he dropped it and the cloth onto the bed next to him, then fell over backwards, lying on his back on the bedspread.  Staring up at the white limestone ceiling, his mind resumed its path.

For those long years between Wenna's death and Riku's conception, he had been kept alive by fate, death avoiding him completely.  The Keyblade factored into the fate of the Many Worlds so much that Riku _had_ to be born, he being the one most fit to wield it.

_Figures that he screwed it up for himself, making the blade choose someone else_, Sephiroth thought, bitterness seeping into his thoughts.  _If I had died and Riku had never been born, things would have turned out no different, and Sora saved the worlds with as much success as Riku probably could have hoped for._

Immediately, guilt assailed him.  Was he wishing Riku had never been born?  He loved his younger son as much as his other two children.  He could never wish that.  Still…

Fate had kept him alive until Riku's conception, but what about after?  He could have died the very next day, and his job would have been done.  There was no real need for him to stay alive.

I chose to, he thought darkly.  He had chosen to wait.  He couldn't just leave Riku alone to fend for himself.  As his father, Sephiroth felt he had an obligation to the child he had so unwillingly brought into being.  The feeling was so strong that his subconscious had reacted.  His heart had refused to leave. 

The heart was the home of the spirit.  The soul did not physically reside inside the heart, but it was the connecter between physical and non-physical, the shortest and easiest route from one to the other.  Joining soulmates feel the sensations most strongly in their hearts, and the Heartless, the unnatural creatures created by Ansem's meddling with emotions, went straight to the heart to suck the soul right out of the person.

He put his right hand over his heart, feeling it beat beneath his palm.  It still ached vaguely from the painful attack in the hallway—how long ago was that, again?—and he felt stinging jolts every now and again.  His attacker had been trying to rip his soul out by the roots, and had nearly succeeded.  A small tear had opened up, jarring his soul's resting place.  Though his spirit had stayed with him, that small tear was enough.  It had initiated his death.

Since then, he had been feeling himself grow steadily weaker.  He had not physically begun to wane, but strength was more than the condition of one's muscles.  He was getting plenty of sleep, but he still felt like he was tired, sometimes exhausted.  His will to live was quickly drying up.  The dreams that came to him were dark and cold, and he felt in them Death's icy tendrils wrapping around him, slowly tightening their hold until he could no longer breathe.  It would be very soon now.

"I'm sorry I haven't come sooner," he whispered hoarsely, feeling tears sting his eyes.  He spoke as if she were next to him, as if she could hear him.  "I've hurt you, too, haven't I?  By not coming?  What have I done to you?!"  Guilt overran him again, and he let the tears flow freely from his eyes for several minutes.  Turning onto his side, he cried bitterly yet quietly, his body wracked with his grief.

Several minutes later, he pushed himself slowly up.  Brushing his hair back behind his shoulders and wiping his tears away, he picked up his sword once again.  It was an ancient weapon, forged so far back in the deeps of time that none of the family history books in the city's extensive library could tell of its origin.  Though some protective spell kept it from being scratched or dulled, it was not wholly unaffected by time's passage.  It carried a heavy legacy with it, as it had been passed down from parent to child in a direct line as far back as was remembered.  The heads of their ancient family had owned it for all of recorded history, perhaps since it was forged.  The sword was no heavier in the hand than when it was made, but if it is grasped, the one who holds it feels a weight on their mind, telling of the countless years, bearers, and opponents the sword has seen in its long existence.  The weight was neither damaging nor tiring, but it was inexplicably there.

_I sullied this blade_, he thought gloomily, looking at the reflection of his face in the metal.  _I turned it into a slaughtering tool, a mere butcher's knife._  He was thinking back to his centuries-long "tradition", killing kitschen in the name of revenge.  _Riku is more worthy of this sword._  He turned it over, looking at it thoughtfully.  _Yes, this sword must go to Riku.  He is not my oldest, but he is the one I am closest with.  We…we understand one another._  Darius and Samara would understand.  In fact, it was they who recognized it in the first place, that Riku had a special place in his father's heart.  Neither begrudged their youngest sibling this, knowing how and why it was so.

"Just let me do one more thing, Love," he said, once more speaking to the woman who was not there.  "Just one more thing."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Riku-love, what's wrong?"

Riku jolted, as if startled out of a doze, and looked toward the voice.  It was Leiya.  The two of them had been together for more or less two weeks, and they had both adjusted completely to the duel feeling in their souls.  They had been talking idly, sharing anecdotes about their life before their meeting.

"I'm fine," he said.  "Why?  What happened?"

"You just suddenly quieted down," she said.  "You stopped moving and your eyes became unfocused.  Did you…see anything?"  She knew, of course, about his being a psychic and the seeing ability that went with it, and she was both fascinated and a little intimidated by the rarity of his psychic powers.

"No," he said, shaking his head.  "I didn't see anything, but I…I felt something."  He looked troubled.  "It's my father.  He…it's like he's being sucked dry by something.  I've never felt this before."

"Riku," Leiya said, unsure of how to respond.  She knew the relationship between Riku and Sephiroth was far from simple, and she felt it best that she not interfere, since the two men seemed to have a private understanding of one another, cut off from everyone else.  She was not going to intrude on that, though she probably could if she chose to.

Riku opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was choked off when he looked at her again.  She had disappeared, and he was no longer sitting on the couch in his bedroom.  He was standing outside in the Wilds, not fifteen feet away from his father.  Sephiroth's right was to him, and the older man was oddly still, his face serene and yet somehow pained, as if he were calmly waiting for something he had longed after for ages.

As Riku stared, trying to comprehend what this sudden vision was trying to tell him, Sephiroth suddenly gasped and spasmed, his back arching so far that it would have broken if it had been bent any further.  Riku barely noticed, however, his eyes fixed instead on the great spout of blood that had burst from his father's chest.  Sephiroth's face remained unchanged, other than his eyes had closed, and blood now ran freely from his mouth down his chin.

Riku cried aloud when he realized what was happening.  His heart…his heart had burst open, finally allowing his trapped and tortured soul to escape.  Even as he thought this, his father's corpse collapsed limply to the bloodstained grass, and there were suddenly two Sephiroths.  One was very much solid and lay motionless and gory on the ground.  The other, his soul, was translucent, kneeling over the broken form of the other.  He seemed to be saying goodbye to his former home, before standing and turning.  There was a woman behind him…

"Riku!" Leiya's voice finally broke through the vision, jerking Riku back to the present.

"Oh, God," Riku gasped, suddenly shaking.  "Oh, my God!"

"Riku, what in the world—"

"H-he's dying!" Riku interrupted, feeling a whirl of different emotions at the very thought.

_Come to me_, his father's strong, commanding voice broke through his thoughts, making him jump again.  _Come to me alone._

"I have to go," Riku said, standing up and trying not to let the temporary vertigo overtake him.

"What?" Leiya asked, startled at the sudden declaration.  "Where?"

"I just…have to go," Riku answered, not having the slightest clue what was going on.  Did that vision have to do with his father calling, or was it just a coincidence?  "Stay here.  Please.  I-I don't know if it will be safe."

"Riku!" Leiya shouted again, confused and frightened by her mate's strange behavior, but it was too late.  Riku was gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day was warm, and the buzz of insects searching for flowers could be heard if one listened for it.  The sun occasionally hid behind a bit of cloud, and a cool breeze blew.

_Just like that day_, Sephiroth thought.

He was in the exact place where he had found her, used and mutilated, praying for the quick death that would not come.  This was the place where she lost her dignity, and he lost his mind.  He had not been back here once since then, this being the first time.  The area showed no sign of what had happened.  The vegetation was unspoiled, and the bodies of the kitschen he had killed were long gone, scavenged and decomposed into nothingness, even their bones gone.

_Like they would have just laid out in the open_, he thought dryly.  _Any that's left is buried by the dirt and the grass._

She died here, and now, so shall he.

"Father!" a voice called from the west, making him turn.  As he did so, Riku landed, looking both worried and scared, as if something had recently given him a nasty fright.

"I see you came alone," Sephiroth said, indicating Leiya's absence.

"I know," Riku replied.  "You told me to come alone."  He was a little puzzled that his father would point out that Riku had obeyed, as if it were a rare occurrence.

Sephiroth nodded his assent.

"Father, what is it?" Riku asked, his anxiety subsiding a little.  His father had not begun to spray blood yet, so the vision wasn't a sure thing.  On the other hand, it was very possible that what he had seen was purely symbolic…

Sephiroth faced his son, looking at him steadily, as if inspecting him.  Riku did not flinch, though their eyes met and stayed locked together.  How similar their eyes were.  The shape of the pupils were the only physical difference, the shine in Riku's just as strong and deep as Sephiroth's.  He could see sorrow in his son's eyes, but none that he hadn't overcome like he should have.  He prayed that this younger version of him would never know the anguish that he had endured.

_He already knows_, a voice in the back of his head told him.  _He's looked into your heart.  He's seen everything._  Sephiroth shook his head, not wanting to acknowledge that his son knew all there was to know of his descent into madness.

"Father?" Riku asked again.

Sephiroth tentatively reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over Riku's cheek, resting his palm against the side of his face.  Riku did not move.  Sephiroth did the same with the other hand, touching their foreheads together.

"You've grown up so beautifully, Riku," he whispered.  "I'm proud of you."

"Father…"

"Fight me, Riku," Sephiroth said, letting go of his son and stepping back.

Riku blinked.  "What?"

"I want you to fight me, Son," Sephiroth explained.  "I want to see just how good you really are."

Riku hesitated.

"Go on," Sephiroth urged.  "Call your weapons."

"But—"

"Do it."

Riku hesitated a second more, then did as asked.  He often didn't fight with weapons, but when he did, he used two blades that could be called both long knives and short swords.  The blades of the knives were much like Sephiroth's sword.  They were thin, slender, and slightly curved, only one side capable of cutting.  Riku had yet to master teleporting himself, but he could call small- to medium-sized objects to him from a distance, granted that they were within a certain range.  When he felt the weight of the knives in his hands, he unsheathed them.

"Don't hold back," his father said, his sword at the ready, pointed toward his son.  "Fight me like you mean to kill me.  I will do the same."

"But," Riku said, feeling discomfort creep up his spine, "but…what if we seriously hurt each other?"

"Just do as I asked, Riku," Sephiroth replied.

"But—"

It was too late.  Sephiroth had surged into motion, his sword swinging around in a deadly arc as he sprang at Riku.  Riku had no choice but to act, bringing his knives up in front of himself, crossing the blades and bringing them up to meet the sword.  The three connected with a loud _clang_.  Riku stumbled backward, his guard broken, the force of the impact jarring his arms up to his shoulders.  His father followed, striking again, but Riku was prepared this time, he parried with significant force of his own, and the fight began.

Neither man knew how long they fought, their bodies more in control than their minds were, dancing together this deadly sword-dance, heedless of the world around them.  The sun moved steadily across the sky toward the west, the petty skirmish below her notice.

Riku, his body burning with both tiredness and energy, finally twisted around as he lunged forward, putting his back to his father.  He struck not with his knives but his elbow, jabbing it hard into the underside of the wrist of his father's sword-hand, the perfect hit as much luck as it was skill.

Sephiroth yelped as the nerves in his left arm sizzled, electric-like shocks racing up toward his shoulder.  His fingers had involuntarily opened, dropping the sword.  He went to retrieve it, but before he could, he felt cold metal against his throat.  Riku had beaten him.

"I win," Riku said, his voice raspy with his breath, which was hard and audible.  Neither man moved for several seconds.

"Yes," Sephiroth said finally, "I knew you would."

"What do you mean?" Riku asked, withdrawing the knife.

Sephiroth shrugged.  "I just knew you would."

Riku did not respond, locating the sheathes where they dropped and returning the knives to them.  As he did so, Sephiroth removed the long black-lacquer sheathe for his own sword from his back.  When Riku turned back to look at him, the sword was returned to its casing, and his father hadn't yet returned it to his back.  Instead, he was holding it as if he meant to give it to someone.  Without hesitation, he approached his son, dropped down on both knees, and held the sword up to him.

"Father?!" Riku cried, surprised and shocked.

"This is yours, Riku," Sephiroth said.  "I'm passing it on to you."

Slowly, as if hesitating, Riku reached out, but stopped short of taking the sword.  "Why…?"

"Take it," Sephiroth said.

Riku closed his fingers around the sheath, lifting the horizontal weapon from his father's hands.  It was heavy, and he felt an inexplicable weight on his mind.  He realized that, in all the years since he came to the One World, he had never before held his father's sword.

Sephiroth stood, watching his son's reaction.  Riku was feeling the immense age of the sword, mulling over everything that it represented.  It was as if the sword had a memory of its own.  It must have been all the more powerful for Riku, due to his sensing ability.  Sephiroth finally turned away, walking back to the dreaded spot where Wenna met her end.  Their fight had taken them quite a ways away from it.  Riku followed, silent but feeling his anxiety grow again.

No sooner had Sephiroth returned to the spot that he felt a pain grow in his chest.  He drew in a hissing breath, his hands over his heart.

"Father!" Riku cried, dropping the sword and running over to him.  He caught him as he sank down to the ground, groaning painfully.

"Dying hurts," Sephiroth whispered.

"D-dying…?" Riku repeated, his fears realized.

"She's taking me, Riku," Sephiroth said.  "I'll be gone in a few minutes."

"She?" Riku asked.  "You mean—"

"Yes," Sephiroth nodded.  "She tried to take me two weeks ago.  I fought her."

Riku swallowed hard.  "Why?"

"I wanted to go with her," Sephiroth said, "but I also wanted to stay just a little longer.  I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay on your own."

"F-for me?" Riku stammered, feeling tears stinging his eyes.  "You stayed for me?"  The tears spilled over when Sephiroth nodded.

"I had a duty to perform, as your father," Sephiroth explained.  "I couldn't abandon you, not to that horrible woman who mothered you."

"B-but, why so _long_?!" Riku cried.  "Why did you hang on so long?!"

Sephiroth did not answer.  He either had no answer, or he would not share it.  Instead, he said, "She's gone a little crazy, herself."

"What?" Riku asked.  "How do you know?"

"She attacked me, Riku," Sephiroth said.  "She so desperately wanted me with her that she tried to force me."

"Why didn't you go?!" Riku almost shouted, confused beyond reckoning.  "Why did you stay?!"  This was unexplainable.  He had a choice between his son, too wrapped up in his own affairs to notice, and his soulmate, starved for each other's presence and driven mad by each other's absence.

"Please, don't ask me that, Riku," Sephiroth pleaded.  "I don't know.  I honestly don't know."

Riku didn't respond.  He wept bitterly, clutching his dying father to him, his mind fraught with emotion.  He was deeply disturbed by the path his father had chosen to tread.  He had gone against all his instinct, against the deepest desire of his soul, just to watch over a bastard half-breed of a son.  He had cultivated madness, scarring both himself and his beloved perhaps beyond repair, all for Riku.  All for him, and _he hadn't noticed…_

"I love you, Riku," Sephiroth whispered faintly.  "You'll be fine."

"Father…"  Riku couldn't say anymore before he felt the connection between Sephiroth's body and soul break.  The body in his arms shivered once, then lay still.

Sephiroth was dead.

Riku choked back a sob, clutching the body to him tightly.  Conflicting emotions strove in his heart, pulling him three different ways.

He should be happy.  His father had finally left this cruel life behind.  He had abandoned the pain of living and rejoined the one he should have gone to centuries ago.

On the other hand, a massive feeling of guilt and unworthiness had descended upon him, squeezing his heart mercilessly.  Almost everything his father had suffered was for him.  After his conception, Sephiroth could well have chosen to die then, but he lingered on for hundreds of years, just to watch over him.  He had only increased his and his mate's suffering, for the sole purpose of making sure Riku was finally set for life.  Worst of all, Riku had never realized the full weight of what Sephiroth's choice to stay meant.  He had felt his father's pain, yes, but had never comprehended what was happening and why.

A third, smaller thought was coming to light.  He hadn't wanted his father to die.  Sephiroth had been his main source of support since their meeting so long ago, and he hadn't wanted to lose it, no matter what the cost.  He had Leiya now, but…he was frightened of losing his father.  Some small, childish part of him didn't want to face life on his own.  He didn't want to grow up.

_I'm so selfish!_ he berated himself, hating every bit of himself that wanted his father to stay.  _I'm so fucking selfish!_

The body in his arms was relaxed, the face serene, but as Riku looked at him, he felt horror grow in him as he realized something.  He had never before been this close to death, and this thing in his arms was no longer his father.  It was lifeless matter, flesh and bone that would, if left alone, rot into nothing and disappear from the world.  After the spirit fled, the body was trash.

Riku fought the feeling of revulsion that rose up in him.  His father's remains deserved more respect than that.  The greatest of ylfen had just passed, and his son was thinking of how sickening it was to touch him.  That wasn't right.

Riku suddenly jerked upright, nearly dropping the body in surprise.  The spirit had _not_ fled, lingering on around him.  What was he waiting for?  He should have left this world by now, right?

As soon as Riku asked himself these questions, he felt another presence appear.  He felt the two spirits touch and instantly meld, a sensation of intense, ecstatic joy hitting him hard enough to make him physically flinch.  He was transfixed, his hold on the body tightening.

_Thank you_, a feminine voice spoke into his thoughts, _for taking care of him._  Wenna was thanking him.  There were no malice or hate behind the words, despite Riku being the reason Sephiroth did not go to her.  She was genuinely grateful to Riku for looking after Sephiroth, in his own way.  The thought was enough to bring tears back to Riku's eyes.

The joined souls vanished, never to be found on that plane of existence ever again.

Behind Riku, the westering sun disappeared below the horizon, dousing the world in darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Riku stood at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom, facing the wall, his gaze falling on the portrait of Sephiroth and Wenna.  So much had changed in the past few weeks.  He had endured a painful attack by the kitschen, he had met and joined with his soulmate, and his father had finally left his empty life behind and rejoined his soulmate.  Riku sighed softly.

Sephiroth had burned the night before last, a few hours after he died.  The witnesses were dead silent, as was common around a funeral pyre.  Death was not feared, but it was so uncommon among ylfen.  He should have died a long time ago, but his death still laid a melancholy veil over those who knew him.

Riku remembered little of it, save the fire.  He had stood perfectly still, Leiya beside him, his eyes fixed on the bright orange and red flames.  He had felt calm then, very little emotion coming to him.  It was a welcome relief from the emotional whirlwind that had gripped him hours before.  He knew his brother and sister were nearby, but he barely noticed them.

Riku sat down on the end of the bed, looking down at his hands in his lap.  His father had given him his sword, which was in his bedroom.  Riku was now head of the family.  It was a small family, but most ylfe families were small.  He had at first not realized it, laying the sword down on the table when he had finally gotten home after Sephiroth's death, a little before the burning.  Darius had immediately picked it up and handed it back to him.  He had told the confused Riku that the sword meant he was the family head, and he should take it back with him to his room.  Riku had sensed no ill will from either of his older siblings.  They apparently were not disappointed that the youngest among them was their father's heir.

Riku sighed again, brushing his fingers through his hair.

"Riku?" Leiya's voice came from the doorway.  "Are you all right, Love?"

Riku nodded.

Leiya came over and sat beside him.  "Are you sure?  You look awfully tired."

"I'm fine," Riku said.  "I'm just…just not feeling very energetic."

She laid a hand on his, which lay on his thighs with the fingers loosely threaded together.  "You should be happy for him.  He's gone to the one he belongs with."

"I know," he answered.  "I am happy for him.  That's not why I'm depressed."

"What is it, then?" she asked.

Hesitating a moment, he confessed the thoughts he had felt as his father had died.  The surprise and shock at learning just why his father had stayed behind for so long, the selfish desire for him not to die, and the sudden squeamishness when he realized he was holding a corpse.  He spoke softly, showing little emotion.

"I see," Leiya said when he finished.  "Well…you are happy for him, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Does some part of you still wish he were still here?" she asked.

"A part of me, yes," he admitted.  "I mean, since I came here to the One World when I was young, he's been my main source of support, though I don't think I really realized it.  After I met you, you became the closest one to me, but I don't think I quite moved away from him, support-wise.  Losing him kinda made me feel lost, like the floor had fallen out from under me.  I don't think I _forgot_ you were with me, but it didn't come to mind until later."

"Do you think you need support?" she asked.

He paused, then shook his head.  "Not need it, no, but to lose it suddenly would be a shock, wouldn't it?  It'd take a while to get used to being on my own.  Not that I'm _totally_ on my own, with you and Darius and Samara and others, but you know what I mean?"

She nodded.

"And, now," he continued, "my brother and sister have decided to leave."

"I don't understand that," she said.  "Why leave us alone in this house?  There's clearly room for the four of us and a lot more.  Besides, their father just died."

"They aren't running away," he said.  "They stayed here for so long to keep an eye on our father.  He occasionally lost common sense, to put it mildly, and it was a lot better if others were around to help him if he hurt himself, instead of leaving him alone.  Also, leaving him alone after he had lost his soulmate wouldn't be the kindest thing to do, anyway.  Now, they should go live their own lives.  It's certainly been long enough.  Maybe they'll find their soulmates.  It'd be a pity if they hadn't met them sooner due to staying here in Aerie.  I was a little surprised, since it hadn't come to my mind, but I told them they had my blessing and my wishes of good luck."

She nodded, and they fell silent for several minutes.  Riku was the first to speak again.

"This is the master bedroom," he said slowly, "but I don't know if I'd feel right moving in here.  I mean, this was Father's inner sanctum, and he came in here to grieve for Wenna and to remember her.  I feel like making this our bedroom was disrespectful, somehow."

"Why don't you ask them?" she suggested.

"What?" he blinked, surprised.

"You're a psychic," she explained.  "You can sense the emotions of others much clearer than most people can, especially if you have something to represent your target, if they aren't present themselves.  Remember you sensed terrible pain and grief by touching that painting?"

He nodded, comprehending.

"It could be a long shot, but maybe you'll be able to feel their emotions now by doing it again," she said.

He stood, looking at the painting.  Tilting his head, he noticed a change.  It looked no different, but the air of the painting was lighter, less bittersweet.  Closing the short distance between the bed and the painting, he slowly raised a hand and hesitantly touched it.

At first, he felt nothing.  Then, much more gradual than the rush of emotion he felt when he first touched the painting, a warm feeling grew in his mind.  He realized it was the calm, serene feeling now experienced by the two people in the painting, their souls reunited and repaired.  Mingled with the serenity, he sensed something that seemed to him like approval, almost as if someone were urging him to do something.

He took his hand away with a slight nod.  He didn't know if he'd be able to contact them again this way, or if this were a final goodbye, but he had his answer.

"Yes," he said.  "They want us to."

"You don't have any doubts, then?" she asked.

He shook his head, returning to her side on the foot of the bed.  He slipped an arm around her waist as she leaned against him, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Everything's turned out for the better," she said softly.  "They're both much happier, and you have your whole life ahead of you.  We'll forge our own destiny and live our own lives."

He nodded.  "As long as you're with me, Love."

"Of course I'll be with you!" she giggled.

"We might get kinda lonely in this house with no one else," he said.  "Think we'll be able to keep each other company?"  His voice dropped a few notes, a suggestive tone seeping in.

"Riku, behave," she chided, but a slight blush tinged her cheeks pink.  "I do have an idea.  Cloud's a good friend of yours, isn't he?  He wanders so much, that he doesn't have a permanent home.  When he's in Aerie, he could stay here with us."

"Yeah," Riku nodded.  "I'll run that by him.  I think you'll like him.  He can be standoffish and secretive, but he's got a good heart.  He considers the inhabitants of the Many Worlds friends when so few ylfe even acknowledge their existence.  He contacts them more than I do, and I was born there."

She had moved around behind him and was on her knees, her arms loosely around his neck, leaning forward against him.  "I think I will, Love.  I'll always like someone who can catch you by the ankle and throw you into the river without breaking a sweat."

"You hush up," he growled, genuinely pricked.  "He didn't throw me in.  It was an accident."

"Sure it was," she said in a disbelieving tone.

He elbowed her lightly, making her giggle.  A few more verbal jabs later, he turned around and tackled her to the bedspread.  His mouth descended to her neck, nipping and sucking.  He'd teach her not to tease him like that.  Oh, yes, he'd teach her…

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  There we go.  We've finally reached the turning point in the story.  I've been meaning to tell you guys something for a while, and haven't remembered until now.  This story is a biography of sorts.  I haven't planned all the way to the end, but I don't know if I'll be making a new evil rise up, or if this story will even have a conventional climax.  Like "Love, Life, and Death" did for Chichiri of _Fushigi Yûgi_, "Separate Destinies" is a chronicle of Riku's life, playing out as I imagine it playing out under the circumstances.  I hope I didn't disappoint many of you.  I might have some sort of climax, but I don't know yet.  Response to LLaD was overwhelmingly positive, so I think people will enjoy this type of story for Riku, too.

Now, sorry again that I finished this later than I wanted, and I'd like to know what you guys think of this.  Tell me in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	15. A Rare Event

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Fifteen:  A Rare Event 

Riku leaned back against the warm rock, breathing in the steam around him.  He and Cloud were far outside Aerie, near the far border of the Stretch.  Cloud had suggested they come out here for a few days and test their fighting prowess against each other.  Riku, who hadn't had a good fight in quite a while, had agreed.  Though he frowned at the thought of senseless violence, a vigorous battle exhilarated him, opening his veins and lungs up and making him feel more alive.  He was a long way ahead of most ylfen his age, and Cloud, who was several centuries older than him, was more or less his equal.  The winner of a fight between them was anyone's guess.

The sun was setting in the western sky.  Earlier today, they had come across a small group of springs, which turned out to be hotsprings.  It was the perfect way to relax tired muscles, as well as wash off the dirt and grime that had accumulated after two days of sparring.

"You've really tanned, Riku," Cloud observed.  He was on the opposite side of the pool they were in.

"Hm?" Riku asked, opening one eye and looking at his blond companion.  "So have you."

"So I have," Cloud agreed.  The two of them were normally very pale.  They were naturally light-skinned, but living in a canyon where half the day is shadowed caused Riku to have nearly white skin.  Cloud was only a shade or two darker.  The last two days on the sunlit prairie had made them both brown considerably.

Riku watched his long, silvery hair float lazily around him, dancing slowly in the ripples and tremors caused in the water by their movements.  Leiya loved his hair, and had admitted to being jealous of the smooth, stick-straight strands.  Her own hair, wavy and wild, was much harder to take care of.  Many times after making love, she had played idly with his hair, stroking and fingering the silky silver river.

"How has Leiya been doing?" Cloud asked, as if guessing Riku's current train of thought.

"She's wonderful," Riku replied with a smile.  "She's as healthy as an expectant mother could be, and has been for a long while."  Leiya was halfway through pregnancy, her belly slowly growing to accommodate the little creature developing inside her.

"Good, good," Cloud nodded.  "She's had a rather easy pregnancy so far, hasn't she?"

"She says it runs in her mother's family," Riku explained.  "The women in the family take well to pregnancy, apparently."  He had been born into a society where pregnancy and birth were all too common, but he had come to regard them with the same respect and awe as other ylfen.  He had seen so few babies and young children since leaving the Many Worlds.

He leaned back against the rock, closing his eyes.  He remembered as clear as day the night Leiya conceived.  She had been distraught over the sudden, accidental death of a close friend.  She had witnessed the freak accident, and had been unable to stop the bleeding before the younger woman had died.  Riku had taken her into the bedroom, intending to have her lie down and hopefully sleep her anxiety off, but she had instead pulled off first his clothing and then hers, much to his surprise.  She had pushed him down onto the bed, showing unusual aggressiveness, and had taken him so thoroughly and completely that they had both shrieked their release to the ceiling, emotions and sensations shooting through and ricocheting between them, deepening and intensifying to the point of delirium.

Through the frenzy, the madness and the lust that had overtaken them, Riku had felt a small spark appear.  He hadn't been sure exactly when it became present, but it had definitely been there.  Afterward, while lying exhausted and sated in each other's arms, he had realized what it was that he had been sensing.  His sensitive psychic awareness had been picking up on the roots of soul formation, the primal beginning from which all living beings spring.

He knew that she had been aware of it, too.  As he felt it, so too did she feel it through him.

"A child," she had murmured, her eyes slipping closed as sleep claimed her.

"Hey, still alive over there?" Cloud chided from across the pool.

"Yes, I am still alive," Riku responded with mock irritation.  "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"It's private."

Silence descended between them.  Riku moved away from the side of the pool and slipped beneath the surface of the water, getting his head and shoulders wet.  He felt his skin tingling from the warm water, and he stayed under until his breath ran out.  When he surfaced again, he stood and stepped out of the small spring.

"We better get a good night's sleep tonight," he told Cloud.  "We're heading back tomorrow, remember."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The house was quiet.  Riku sat in an armchair in the living room, a book in his hands.  He had been reading it slowly, absorbing the text gradually.  He hated reading fast, for it made him feel as if he were missing something, forgetting half of the things on the page.

Cloud had closed himself in his room, and his current activity was unknown to Riku.  Leiya had gone to bed early, as her energy had been lasting her a shorter amount of time lately.

_One month to go_, Riku thought, closing the book partway.  One ylfe year is a long time to humans and other Many Worlds species, and ylfe females carried their unborn children for roughly one year.  It was many times longer than a human female is pregnant, and Riku was sure they would hate it dragging on that long.

Time passed more slowly and more quickly for the ylfen, however, and Riku was surprised the birth was only a few weeks away.  Had it been that long already?

He put a marker in the book and placed it back on the bookshelf.  It was late, and he should get into bed.

His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked down the hallway.  He looked ahead of him, seeing the doors lining the walls at slightly uneven intervals.  He knew what was behind every door, but some rooms were very seldom used.  As he often did, he found himself wondering about the activities in the house before his time, before his father's time.  So many generations of his family have lived here, so many of his relatives being born and growing up here.  They were long gone, only the ghosts of their memories remaining.

_It's a shame_, he thought, _that I can't know these things._  He would have loved to know all about his family.  There were the family history books in the city library, which had biographies that ranged from three to twenty pages long.  His family was documented from almost one hundred generations ago and went down the many various branches, the most recent entry being his father.  He had spent many long hours in that library, reading through the books on his family, but they couldn't tell him everything there was to know.  If there was some cosmic historian who wrote down every detail of the lives of everyone to ever live, no matter what world or dimension they lived in, Riku was sure he'd be fascinated with those writings.  He chided himself, knowing that to know every detail of someone was an invasion of their privacy, but he couldn't help being curious.

_If there is a biographer like that, he's probably the personification of Destiny itself_, he thought.  One thing he wondered was who wrote the family history books and where they got their information.  Considering the huge variety of things ylfen have been able to accomplish with magic, he wouldn't be surprised if they books actually wrote themselves.

Coming to the end of the hallway, he went through the doors into the sitting room.  The lamps along the walls were burning dimly, and the doorway to the bedroom was slightly ajar.  He went inside and closed the door quietly.  It was just as dim in here, and he walked carefully to keep from tripping on something.

He undressed and put on one of the long, light, robe-like garments that many ylfen used to sleep in.  Climbing into bed, he saw that Leiya was wearing the same.  She was lying on her back, breathing easily and deeply in her sleep.  He pulled the covers further up over them, making sure they were both warm.

Riku lied down on his side, facing her.  He was tired, but not tired enough to immediately go to sleep.  Instead, he contented himself in watching his beloved.

He gently lay a hand on her swollen belly.  They baby inside was awake, as he felt it move after a few moments.  He smiled softly and reached out with his mind, touching very lightly the tender consciousness.  It stirred and touched weakly back.  A primitive, positive emotion seeped into his mind, and he smiled again.  Though there was no conscious thought yet, the child's soul responded well to him.  When born, it may recognize him as its father as quickly as it will recognize Leiya as its mother.

_Such a precious thing you are_, he murmured mentally to it.  Even though it wouldn't understand the words, he hoped it got the gist of what he was saying.  _I love you, just as your mother does.  We'll take good care of you._

He very gingerly broke the connection and removed his hand from his mate's abdomen.  He took her hand and squeezed it lightly.  He adored above all else this woman in the bed beside him.  He had given her his mind, his body, his soul, and now he had given her his child.

Gently, he pressed his lips to hers, putting on enough pressure to make her respond slightly, but not enough to wake her up.

"I love you," he purred into her ear, pressing close and letting his eyelids slip shut.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

PAIN.

"Gyaaaaah…!"

Riku fell against the wall and slid to the floor, his arms around himself.  A sharp pain had suddenly exploded in his abdomen, and it was enough to make his eyes water.

"What the hell…?!" he managed through his teeth.  The pain slowly subsided, and he managed to get up to his feet, shaky from the sudden sensation.

_Riku!_ he suddenly heard Leiya call urgently into his head.  _Riku, I need you!_

So, that was it!  That was a labor pain he had felt.  It had traveled through the connection between them and assailed him at the same time it had hit her.  He set off down the hallway as fast as he could.  It was a long hallway, and he kept having to stop as the pain grew and subsided, but he finally made it there.  Pushing through the door to the bedroom, he found Leiya on the bed on her back, clutching her swollen middle and covered in sweat.

"Riku…" she managed, and he realized that she was in more pain than he had realized.  Birth was hard for ylfe females, their bodies so much less used to it than human females.

"Leiya!" he cried, at her side in an instant.  "Leiya, are you all right?!"

"Yes," she said between breaths.  "Please, Riku, I need your help!"

Part of him blanched.  He had never gone through something like this, and he didn't know what to do.  On the other hand, the other part of him steeled itself, knowing exactly what to do.  He realized with a start that male ylfen are as much involved in the birthing process as the females are, and they had instincts to deal with it.

Birth was a natural process, and the ylfen praised nature and its purity.  Without thinking, Riku had disrobed them both, leaving them completely naked, as natural as they could get.

"Please, Riku…!" she moaned.  The small, pleading sound pierced his heart, and he clutched at her hand, diving down into the sensory part of her brain.  He felt his own discomfort increase as he severed part of her pain, taking it upon himself.  The sensation was roughly halved between them, her suffering growing smaller and his growing greater.  He didn't feel most of the birthing sensations, none of the squeezing or the pressure, but he did feel the intense pain.  He gritted his teeth and bore it willingly, knowing that he was aiding his love.

"Do all fathers…feel the birthing pangs…?" he asked after several moments.

Leiya nodded slowly.  "The connection between soulmates…it makes the pain travel from one to another…it's just like sensing other strong emotions or sensations from each other."

The minutes dragged slowly on.  Riku, after a while, laid himself down next to her on his side.  Now, he understood why his father looked so exhausted in those memories Riku had seen of Darius and Samara's first days.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a sudden, piercing wail, followed immediately by a pain more powerful than he had yet felt today.

"Riku!" Leiya cried, practically in his ear.  "It's coming!  _It's coming!_"  The child had dropped as far as it would go, and was now in the birth canal.  Through the agony twisting his insides, Riku managed to push himself up and stumble over to the chest of drawers near his side of the bed.  He pulled a towel from the bottom drawer and returned to Leiya.  Instead of going back to her side, he knelt down between her bent and spread knees.  He had the soft towel draped over his hands, ready to receive the newborn as it was pushed out into the wide world.

"Come on, Leiya," he murmured, sending the words as well, using as much of his power as he could spare to calm her crackling nerves.  "Come on…just a little more!  Push hard!"  With every contraction, he winced hard, as much from the pain in Leiya's cries as from the pain in his own body.  His vision fuzzed a bit, but he grit his teeth and focused.  He had kept from crying out thus far, and he'd be damned if he deteriorated now.

Finally, shrieking, straining so hard Riku thought she'd burst, Leiya managed to push the baby's head and shoulders into the open.

"Yes, Leiya!" Riku gasped, shaking as much as she was.  "You did it!"  The rest of the baby slid out easily when he gently tugged on the narrow shoulders.  He reached over to the side, pulling a knife from its sheath.  He normally kept a knife strapped to his shin, and it hadn't fallen to the floor when discarded.  With it, he cut the umbilical cord, and the baby took its first tiny breath—

—which turned into a loud wail.  Riku was startled at first, but knew it was natural for newborns to cry.  He gently wrapped it in the towel, hoping it would be warm enough.  He grasped the free end of the cord that was still trailing from Leiya's body and tugged.  Leiya gave one last push and expelled the afterbirth.

_This is one fine mess_, he thought, realizing the sorry-looking state of things.  Both he and Leiya were sweaty and disheveled, the baby was covered in the white cheesy stuff that kept the amniotic fluid from damaging its skin, and the sheets of the bed were stained with birthing fluids and now the afterbirth.  _This would take a lot of work to clean up…ah, screw it._  He didn't want to mess with it right now, and it would be difficult if he did it the hard way.  Instead, he merely snapped his fingers and pointed to what was roughly the center of it all.

The mess disappeared, including the stuff on the baby and the sweat on their skin.  It was the easy way out, but what was magic for anyway if it didn't save you some time and effort?  They had both put out plenty of effort in the past few hours, thanks.

"Riku…" Leiya whispered, recovered enough to prop herself up a little.

He gently lifted the still whining baby from the bedspread and moved up beside her, placing him in her arms.

"He's so beautiful," she purred, a tired, euphoric smile on her face.  "He's perfect."

"Mm," Riku replied, putting his arms around her and letting her lean against him.  The little boy had Leiya's coloring in his skin and hair, and probably his eyes.  Riku couldn't tell, as the infant had his eyes closed.  The tiny wing, however, folded against his back, was a combination of both their wings.  It was black along the base and top edge, but as it tapered down to the tip, the black faded into rich auburn instead of royal blue.

The baby suckled hungrily at his mother's breast, drawing in his first sustenance.  His mother held him reverently, in awe that her body could produce such a tiny, perfect little being like this.  Like most ylfen, she had seen too few babies and young children in her life.

"What should his name be?" Riku asked.

"Tanis," Leiya said after thinking a moment.  It was a name from an old ylfe word meaning "from love".

"Tanis," Riku repeated slowly.  "Yes, that will do."

Leiya fell into a light doze, and he gently lowered her down to lie flat on the bed, her head resting in her soft pillow.  Little Tanis was through nursing, so Riku tentatively removed him from Leiya's loose grasp.

"You come from an old, proud family," he whispered, cradling the sleeping infant to his chest, the greatest of care in his strong arms.  "You have great power sleeping within you, little one."  He touched Tanis' mind in the same fashion as he had while his son was still in the womb.  He received the same response, a little stronger perhaps.  He smiled, knowing that the little baby did indeed recognize him.

"Sleep well, my son," he said quietly, gently stroking the wispy hair on the small head.  "I will watch over you."

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  Finally, I wrote this chapter!  I've been having severe writer's block lately, and I hope it's over and done with.  I hope to start chapter sixteen soon, maybe in the next week or so.  Cross your fingers and pray that I will.  At any rate, let me know what you think of this in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!

I know this chapter, especially the last scene, is a little graphic.  I mean, how many fics do you read that have birthing scenes like this?  Sorry if I grossed you guys out, what with the placenta and the birthing fluids and the cheese-like stuff coating the baby.  But, giving birth is not a tidy thing, and I wanted this to be realistic.  I've never had a child, but I know people who have—which isn't a novelty, since most people do—and I've read about what goes on during a birth.  For all you women out there planning to have kids, know here and now that it's one messy business squeezing that kid out into the world.  Just be happy I didn't make the ylfen one of those cultures where the mother eats the placenta.  Yuck.

The previous chapter, chapter fourteen, was a major turning point in the story.  Sephiroth died and passed the headship of the family over to Riku.  Pretty dramatic stuff, I thought.  Yet, I got very little response to that chapter at all.  I was kinda disappointed that Sephiroth's _death scene_ garnered such a thin reaction.  Come on, guys!  Let me know what you think!  ;_;

One last thing:  Which looking through the earlier chapters for this fic, I noticed that I mentioned in the Author's Notes of one that I was writing an Ansem-centric fic called "Heart of Darkness".  Yet, as you may or may not have noticed, I have yet to post a _Kingdom Hearts_ fic by that name.  Unfortunately, it wrote itself into a corner, and I couldn't back it out for the life of me.  I regrettably had to scrap it.  Sorry to disappoint any of you who wanted to read it.  I might write a different Ansem fic in the future, so keep your fingers crossed.


	16. A Mother's Concern

**Author's Notes:**  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Again, I'm really late.  I apologize, but circumstances have not been kind to me.  I'll try my hardest to write a little more often.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Sixteen:  A Mother's Concern 

"Come on, Tanis," Riku urged, his feet skidding a bit as he landed.  "Come at me like you mean it."

The red-haired youth pushed himself up from his knees to his feet, breathing hard.  His lip bled a bit where he had bitten it, and sweat shined in the sunlight on his skin.  His shirt and shoes were off, and his longish hair was sticking to his neck.

Tanis' tenth birthday had recently come and gone.  He was not the small, scrawny child a ten-year-old human would be, but the fully-grown, sleekly-built young man a ten-year-old ylfe was.  Though only halfway to adulthood socially, he was very much an adult physically.

Riku was in a similar state of undress as his son, and the soles of his feet stung a bit from the hard landing.  He paid it no mind.  The sun was beating down on his back, and his long silver hair stuck to him like a shining mantle.  It was hot and uncomfortable, and he had often considered cutting it off.  He never did, though, knowing how shocked and dismayed Leiya would be.  She loved his hair.

_The things you do for love_, he chided himself, dropping into a defensive position.  Tanis had charged again, and Riku quickly made to grab his son's fist as it came toward him, intercepting the punch aimed for his midsection.  It had more power than he expected, and he almost stumbled backward.  He managed to keep his balance, but Tanis continued forward, wrapping his other arm around his father's waist and driving his shoulder into Riku's breastbone, knocking the wind out of him and tackling him to the ground at the same time.

Riku fell on his back hard, Tanis on top of him.  He struggled to breathe, as his lungs seemed paralyzed from the blow.  Finally, he did manage to suck in a breath, and by that time, Tanis had pushed himself up to his knees, sitting beside him, catching his breath.

"Good takedown, Son," Riku coughed.  "You caught me off guard.  There's just one thing you're forgetting."

"What's that?" Tanis asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Instead of answering, Riku suddenly lunged upward, one hand grabbing Tanis' throat and the other clamping onto his wrist.  Jerking the arm to one side, he managed to turn his son around, then drove his own weight down onto Tanis' back, throwing him roughly to the ground.  The arm Riku had not grabbed was now trapped between Tanis' body and the ground.  The other was twisted painfully behind his back, still held tightly by his father.  The hand Riku had on his son's throat squeezed tightly, not hard enough to cut off his oxygen entirely, but enough to take the fight out of him.

"Don't take your hands off your opponent until he can't fight anymore," he hissed into his son's ear when Tanis' struggles ceased.  He released his throat, feeling his shoulder blades heave as he gasped for air.

"Y-yes, Father," Tanis replied hoarsely.

"Good," Riku smiled, releasing Tanis and sitting up.  The boy pulled himself a few paces away and knelt there, a little shaky.  He looked exhausted.  "I think that's enough for today," Riku said.

"Thank you," Tanis sighed, visibly relieved.  Now halfway through his training period, Riku had stepped up the intensity, as Sephiroth had done with him.  He was responsible with training Tanis in physical combat, while Leiya took care of teaching him magic.  He would spend one day training with his father, the next with his mother, and so on.

_I wonder how Father managed to train me all on his own_, Riku often found himself wondering.  _We trained nearly every day.  He sacrificed much of those ten years just to help me hone my skills._  Years after Sephiroth's death, Riku still thought about him quite a bit.  His father had given his all to raise him well.  Riku thought that perhaps some of it was guilt over leaving him with an abusive mother for his early years, but he knew much of it stemmed more from love than guilt.  Their souls had touched, bringing them much closer together than most parent-child relationships, and it gave them an understanding of each other that surpassed all but a soulmate's understanding.  Though Riku had seen much of his father's mind, his heart of hearts had remained closed to him.  Wenna had been the only one to see inside, and she had been long gone, her loss ripping away half of Sephiroth's self.  He knew his father had loved him very much, but the reason and the truth depth of it was still a mystery to him.  It would probably stay a mystery to him forevermore.

"Father?" Tanis asked.  He was peering into Riku's eyes, having come closer.

"Huh…?" Riku blinked, coming out of his reverie.

"Are you all right?" Tanis queried, concerned.  "You looked distant."

"Oh, I was just thinking," Riku replied truthfully, "about your grandfather."

"Sephiroth," the youth said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," Riku nodded.

"I wish I had been born while he still lived," Tanis said softly.  "To hear you speak, I think of him as a very great man.  He sounds kind and loving and wise and strong and honorable."

"He was a great man," Riku agreed, "but he was also violent and short-tempered and wrathful and crazy and broken.  I loved him dearly, but I will not lie to you, Tanis.  He was a very dangerous one to be around, if the wrong mood seized him."  His voice softened, his eyes dimming a bit.  "He tried to kill me more than once."

"In his blind rages," Tanis nodded slowly.  "You told me about those."

"I have fallen prey to them before," Riku explained.  "I don't think you've ever seen me like that, but it has happened.  I am not so vulnerable to them as my father, though.  His were caused by a deep hole in his spirit, mine by undue stress and frustration."  He smiled wryly.  "The first time, I beat him nearly unconscious."

Tanis laughed.

"Let's get back," Riku said, standing.  "We both need a bath, and your mother is probably wondering where we are by now."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The doors to the master bedroom opened silently, but Riku felt a slight chill as the breeze from the opening doors moved past him.  His hair was still a little damp from being washed.

When he and Tanis had arrived home, Leiya had been partway through preparing the evening meal, giving them time to wash up.  Afterward, Riku and Tanis had cleaned up.  Now, Riku was returning to his bedroom for the night, expecting to see Leiya.  She was there, lying on her front on their bed, reading.

"Riku," she said, looking up when he closed the door.  "How was today?"

"Strenuous," he replied, rubbing his shoulder, which ached from his impact with the ground.  He grunted slightly when his neck popped.

"Come here," she said, putting her book down and sitting up.  "Sit in front of me."

Riku obeyed, stopping on the way to remove his boots and gloves.

"You're tense," she said softly, her nimble hands fluttering over his neck and shoulders, squeezing and testing the muscles.  "Are you sure you aren't overworking yourself?"

"I'm fine," Riku nodded.  "I got a lot more tired during my own training, and I usually had to take care of it myself.  I didn't have you to help me."  He looked back at her.  "Don't worry about me."  Leiya specialized in healing magic, so she always subconsciously searched for maladies whenever she looked at or touched someone.  It wasn't to the point of obsession, but she tended to be overly concerned for her mate and son.  Still, Riku didn't like to distress her, so he allowed her to mother hen him.  Sometimes.

"Take off your shirt," she said, illustrating her request by tugging on his collar.  When Riku complied, she continued her exam of his back and shoulders.  "I don't come out and watch you two as often as I should," she sighed.  "I'll make a point of changing that."

"Oh, Leiya," Riku smiled softly, pulling his hair over his shoulder to make it easier for her.  "You being there won't stop injuries from happening, and it's pretty rare that either of us gets hurt enough to interrupt our exercises, anyway."

"I know, I'm just concerned," she said.

"The training my father gave me was about the same," Riku continued.  "In fact, it was more intense in some respects, and I got through fine, as you can see."

"Yes, but you very obviously inherited your father's physical strength," Leiya countered.  "Tanis is more like me.  He's more prone to magical skills than physical ones."

"I understand that," he replied evenly, "but I'll still stretch him to his limits, whatever those may be.  You can't improve if you don't strain yourself once in a while."

Leiya sighed.

"I won't overdo it, I promise," Riku assured her.  "Once it seems he's hit a wall, I'll tone it down so he's merely maintaining his current levels."

"I'm just worried, that's all," Leiya murmured.

"I know, Love," Riku nodded.  "I know."

They did not speak again for several minutes.  Leiya had apparently lost track of her examination, now just stroking her fingers lightly up and down his neck and upper back.  She often found herself staring at him, for no apparent reason.  Now was one of those times, her eyes traveling over his lithe form, noting how the jet-black of his feathers contrasted sharply with his milk-white skin.  He was so unique, in more than one way.  The colors of his hair and eyes, rare by themselves among ylfen, were almost unheard of together.  His graceful features, almost feminine, gave him a beauty that stood him out even among the aesthetic ylfe population, where physical attractiveness considered uncommon among humans was the norm.  He harbored an extremely rare power within him, the psychic abilities that come naturally to him being a mystery and curiosity to the vast majority of ylfen.  Above all, he was half-human.  He was the first and so far last half-breed known to exist between the two species, and despite doubts from other members of the community, he had adapted so well to ylfe life that one wouldn't know his mixed ancestry unless told.

She watched his muscles move beneath his skin as he shifted, no small detail of movement escaping notice.  He held so much power in that body, in those strong hands.  Not only was he powerful in the normal sense, but he was one of the very few to have psychic abilities.  Those abilities enhanced his normal ylfen skills, making them easier to grasp and less time-consuming to master.  The only thing he's had substantial trouble with as of yet was teleportation, as he had only recently become skilled at it, due to Cloud drilling it into his head.

Leiya sometimes found herself wondering if his mixed parentage wasn't the cause of his surprising power.  It may not account for his being psychic, but she wondered if mixing human and ylfe blood didn't result in a powerful hybrid.  Riku had said that even Sephiroth couldn't entirely explain his progress, even though he himself was the strongest ylfe known to live.  Perhaps his unusual DNA had to do with at least some of it.  Tanis was less mixed, being only one-quarter human, and he was noticeably less strong than Riku had been at ten years of age.  He was not weak, but his progress and talent was more on par with the average ylfe youth.  Riku was not disappointed, but he did make a point of expecting Tanis' best, not his own from when he was that age.

"Leiya?" Riku asked.  "Is something wrong?"

Leiya shook her head and smiled.  "Oh, nothing's wrong, Riku.  I was just thinking."

"Hm," Riku replied.  "Tanis caught me stuck in my thoughts today, too."

"What were you thinking about?" she asked.

As a response, Riku looked at the painting of his father and Wenna.

"I see," Leiya said.

"I find myself wondering how he managed to train me almost by himself for those ten years," Riku mused aloud.  "Most ylfe parents split the responsibility up, like we have, but he took it all on himself, since he was my only living parent.  Cloud, Samara, and Darius often helped, but most of it was just him."

Leiya nodded.  She knew how often Riku's thoughts wandered back over to his father.  She knew Riku wasn't dwelling on guilt or other negative emotions, and she was not jealous, but it did happen a lot.  Sephiroth had been such a strong influence on his son for much of Riku's life up to Sephiroth's death.  Riku had his own thoughts and opinions on things, living his own life, but his father would never entirely leave his subconscious.

"I'm glad for him, though," Riku said, looking away from the painting.  "He's where he belongs.  His soul is mended and his love beside him again."  He leaned back a bit toward Leiya, turning his head to look at her.  "Besides, I have you.  I can't grieve for too long with you with me."

She smiled, feeling his strong arm curl around her and pull her toward him as he turned around.  Soft yet possessive lips pressed against hers, skillfully coaxing her mouth open for his tongue to slide inside.  She moaned and shivered, moving closer to him so that their bodies touched.  Her own tongue brushed eagerly against his, drawing him in fully.  She loved his kisses, the mere thought of them able to send shivers through every part of her.  Lying back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her, signaling her need for him.  The rustle of cloth over skin reached her ears, and she almost groaned again to feel his fingers undoing and removing her clothes…

He made love to her, taking his time, drawing out the bliss and sweet agony.  He liked to tease her, make her beg for one thing and then give her something entirely different, going back to what she had wanted when she didn't expect it.  She often protested and squirmed, trying to get out from under him and take control, but he knew she loved this.  More than once, she screamed for something she thought she needed, but in the end, he brought her to a climax so intense that she stopped breathing entirely until it was over.

Afterward, Riku lay on top of her, pleasurably tired, his breath starting to calm.  Her slender form was still trapped underneath him, her legs still loosely wound around him.  He rolled to the side, withdrawing from her, and gathered her to him, laying a kiss on her hair.  He squeezed her lightly when she sighed his name.

"Sleep, Love," he gently shushed her, laying a finger against her lips.  "Sleep now.  Tomorrow, it's your time to train our son."

"I know, I know," she muttered, her voice muffled slightly.  "I'll sleep well tonight, thanks to you."

"Oh, no problem," Riku grinned.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:**  I know.  Short, pointless chapter.  This chapter didn't have much plot to it, if any at all, but I haven't updated this fic in a while, and I figured I ought to give you guys something new to chew on.  Besides, my plans for chapter sixteen went right to Tanis' adulthood, and I decided I wanted to put something in where he's still a youngster.  My plans for chapter sixteen will now be chapter seventeen.  I hope to God that I get that written and posted more promptly than my writing has been lately.  -_-;;

I noticed that, lately, I've been putting in a lot of little sex snippets.  Nothing is graphic, really, but it might be a bit much for more conservative readers, and I can't complain about that, since I haven't put up any warnings, like I usually do with this stuff.  I was wondering if I should change the rating from "PG-13" to "R", just so people have an idea of what they might encounter.  I mean, back when I posted chapter two, with the talk about Riku's mother sleeping around, I got some raised eyebrows about the rating I chose.  Think you guys could give me your opinion on this?  I'd really appreciate it.

Anyway, whatever you do, please let me know what you think of this chapter in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	17. Safety Gained, Beauty Lost

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Seventeen: Safety Gained, Beauty Lost 

"Mmnnngh…"

Riku groaned softly as he awoke. His sleep had been sound and dreamless, or perhaps he could not remember his dreams. Whatever the matter, he was well rested.

Leiya lay half on top of him, her head pillowed on his chest, one hand resting serenely by her face. Carefully rolling onto his side, Riku laid her down next to him so he could get up. Her eyes cracked open briefly, but closed again after a second. She was not really awake yet. He got up and let her be, allowing her to sleep some more. Vaguely, Riku wondered if Tanis was awake yet.

_Probably not_, he reminded himself. _He tired himself out yesterday._ Yesterday was a very important day for Tanis. He had faced his end-of-training trial and prevailed. As Riku and Leiya had expected, he did better with magic skills than physical skills, though he did well in all areas. Riku was proud of his son.

He bathed and dressed, and when he was finished and returned to the bedroom proper, he found Leiya awake.

"Good morning, Love," he smiled softly. She had been very anxious about her son facing the trial, and had gone to bed almost as tired as Tanis.

Leiya yawned and stretched, leaning over backwards until Riku thought her back would break. "Good morning, Riku," she replied when she straightened up again.

Riku sat down near her on the edge of the bed. A thought had been chattering at the edge of his mind for some weeks now, but he had not told anyone about it yet. He had wanted to wait until Tanis no longer needed training before he mentioned it.

"Is something on your mind, Riku?" Leiya asked, sensing his thoughtfulness.

"Yes," Riku nodded. "I haven't been back to the Many Worlds for a very long time…"

"Not since your two friends died," Leiya said softly, nodding slowly.

Riku sighed and stood up, moving over to a small table near the bed. On it rested the wooden display case Sora and Kairi had made to hold the keychains for the Keyblade. Riku made absolutely sure that the keychains were kept in mint condition. To let them wear would be like he was letting go of his memory of his two dearest friends. He stared at the keychains silently for several minutes.

"I didn't want to go back," he finally said, very quiet. "After they died, I had no desire to see that world again. Just the thought of going back brought tears to my eyes. I didn't want to face the memories of my early life there. I knew they would only make me break down again, like when I felt Sora and Kairi die. I think I was really frightened of seeing the Destiny Islands again, as well as all the other worlds I've been to. I visited them during the struggle over the Princesses of Heart and the Keyholes, and that time nearly tore us all apart permanently. I didn't want to go back to them, either, for that reason, and any world that I hadn't been to held no interest for me. I was really ready to leave the Many Worlds behind for good."

Leiya was silent, letting her lifemate speak unhindered.

"I begged Father to purge my human blood," he continued. "He probably could have done it, and I wanted to sever all ties from my human life. I think I was bordering on hysterics at the time, and I wasn't thinking straight. I remember myself shaking, my fingers cold and numb. Indeed, I felt like even the core of my soul was quaking. Father refused to change me, telling me I must be proud of my human side, not throw it away in a fit of grief. Since then, I have been. At the least, I've tried." He paused for a long moment. "I can't say why, but I've still never gone back, though I wanted to keep my human self." He finally looked back at his mate. "I want to go back now, Leiya."

Leiya didn't immediately reply. "I want to go with you, then," she said.

Riku again nodded. "If you wish, Leiya."

"We can't leave Tanis behind," she continued. "He's only fifteen, and he just now finished his training. We can't run out on him just as our responsibility to train him has ended."

"I know," Riku agreed. "In fact, even if you did not want to come, I would have asked him, anyway. One-quarter of his heritage comes from the Many Worlds, and I think he deserves to see it with his own eyes." He at last turned away from the keychains. "I will ask him after breakfast. We will leave in three days."

* * *

It was a sunny day in the Destiny Islands. Just like ninety-nine out of every hundred days for this small island chain. It was warm and humid, the slightly cooler sea lapping at the white sand beaches as the tide went in and out. Day after day, the natural cycle of the tides and seasons pressed on with their slow, unwavering routine.

Nothing could be heard but the lapping waves and the occasional call of a bird or animal, when a white flash suddenly came from the sky, and three figures appeared out of that flash, hovering several feet above the ground. The one in the middle was supporting the other two.

"Well, at least I brought us here over an island instead of the middle of the ocean," Riku said, letting go of Leiya and Tanis. His voice was cheerful, but his insides were substantially gloomier. _How many thousands of years has it been?_ he asked himself. _How long has it been since I've set foot on these sands? These islands may not even be inhabited anymore._ A pang of guilt over not visiting his birthplace jabbed him in the heart. _I don't…remember._

When they landed and he looked around, he realized with a start that he had brought them straight to the Party Island. In the past three days, Riku had told them all he could remember of his childhood here. He told them about Sora and Kairi, about his other friends, about the lifestyle in Fate, and how kids came to the Party Island all the time to play. He even told them the ancient superstition that sharing a paopu fruit with someone bound you to them forever. The only thing he didn't touch upon was his mother. He didn't volunteer the information, and neither Leiya nor Tanis asked, somehow knowing that it was not a subject he wished to discuss.

"Where are we?" Tanis asked, looking around.

"We're in the Destiny Islands," Riku replied, looking around the small cove. It looked like no one had been here for a long time. He remembered wooden structures here and there for kids to play on, but there was no sign of human influence anywhere. The hole in the rock wall between the other side of the small island and this cove was there, but much bigger than he remembered, the wooden door nowhere to be found. Even the metal hinges drilled into the stone were gone. How long had it been since people were here? "This is the Party Island I told you about, but…it doesn't look like anyone has come here in a long while."

Without another word, he went through the hole in the wall, half-running toward the larger side of the island. He stumbled as he passed through. Long-buried memories of this place's layout were rising, and he remembered a wooden dais built on the other side of this doorway to make it easier to get to from the other side. It wasn't there anymore, and when he stepped through, he almost fell, not expecting the few extra inches to solid ground.

This side of the island was the same. No docks, no causeways, no anything to indicate that people had been here. In the back of his mind, he had known that this may be the case when he got here, but his heart still ached. So many childhood memories were made here for so many youngsters. Now, it stood abandoned, like no one had ever set foot on it before.

He looked up, and his eyes widened. A tall, conical rock formation still stood in the middle of the island, but wind and time had eroded much of it away. From this side of the island, a gaping hole yawned out, exposing the once enclosed interior to the elements.

"Oh…" Riku said softly, too quiet for the others to hear. He took to the air, going up to the hole, looking in. There was much rock on the ground, as a lot that had not eroded had fallen inward. He was not crying, but he felt a deep sense of nostalgia as he descended into the secret place and landed. This had been his, Sora's, and Kairi's "hideout" for a good chunk of their childhood. Many of their memories together were made in this place. This was also where he had witnessed Sora and Kairi share their first kiss, brutally skewering his heart. He had loved Kairi so much that it had hurt, and seeing her with Sora had almost cast him into despair. If Sephiroth hadn't been there, he may have sunk into depression, and who knows what he would have done then?

Since the sunlight could now reach this place, plantlife had taken over much of it. Rain had washed away the chalk drawings the three of them had scribbled on the walls, and he saw evidence of many more animals living in here than he remembered. Only one thing remained the same.

In the back of the chamber was a door. It was slightly oval, and it looked like it was made of brown wood. Despite the countless years that had gone by, the door looked exactly as he remembered it. It had no doorknob or hinges, and the surface was perfectly smooth. No scratches or holes could be found in it.

"This is the secret place, isn't it?" Tanis asked.

Riku nodded.

"So, that must be—" Leiya began.

"This is where the Keyhole once was," Riku finished. "This is where the heart of this world was once accessible to the outside. The Keyholes weren't usually visible until the Keyblade came near, and Sora never sealed this one personally. When Kingdom Hearts was sealed, all the Keyholes in the Many Worlds closed."

"If it wasn't visible, and Sora never personally sealed it, how do you know it was here?" Tanis asked.

Riku didn't answer right away. "I can feel it. The Keyhole is closed forever, but I can still feel this world's heart beating steadily through this door. It's very faint, but…it is unmistakably there." His voice was soft, sad. The Keyholes were a direct link between the worlds and their lifeblood, but they were also what put the worlds in such dire peril. Ansem's infernal creations were drawn to the Keyholes and the world hearts, and the only way to stop them and save everything and everyone in this dimension was to seal off all access to the world hearts. Even the heart of all worlds, Kingdom Hearts, the birthplace of the Many Worlds, had to be closed. It was a shame, really.

"Riku," Leiya asked, breaking the silence, "does the One World have a Keyhole?"

The silver-haired man blinked, not sure what to say. "Well," he said, searching for an answer. "I…I don't really know, truthfully. The One World has a heart, obviously, but I don't know about a Keyhole."

"If it did have one, wouldn't it have been sealed with all the rest?" Tanis asked.

"I don't think so," Riku shook his head. "Kingdom Hearts was the heart of all worlds, but only in this dimension, I think. The One World was formed independently, and had no link to it. That's what I think, anyway."

They remained there for several minutes, all silent.

"Well," Riku finally said, turning from the sealed door, "I think it's about time we found civilization. I think you two will find humans interesting."

* * *

Fate was gone. The city had been gone for countless years, and no trace of it remained. On the other side of the big island was another city, and its name was Kismet. Riku now knew why the Party Island was abandoned. From this city, it was too far a distance to go back and forth.

Now, he was sitting on a large chunk of driftwood on the beach outside Kismet. He had half expected Fate to be gone—more than half, actually—but it pained him to see his childhood home reduced to nothing. There weren't even ruins to see, since the structures in Fate had been mainly built out of wood. The huge tree his and a few other houses had been perched on was still there, but it was long dead, the core rotted out and the top half fallen to the ground. It was little more than a big, petrified stump now. Who knows how long it's been since Fate was what he remembered it to be?

The people in Kismet were strange to him. They spoke a different language, their alphabet and words unfamiliar to him. He knew they were the evolved forms of what he used to speak and read, but he couldn't understand until he pulled that trick his father had to help him learn the ylfe language. He only artificially understood what they were saying and what the letters meant. From what he could gather, Fate was just a legend now in the cumulative mind of the people. It was known that a settlement of that name—a name few people knew the meaning of—existed, but almost nothing else was known. It had faded into the memory of the land, only the dustiest of books presented much detail about it.

_I never visited_, Riku thought sullenly. _Father told me to be proud of my human side, and I told him I would, but I abandoned my human home like I didn't care about it any more. All because I was afraid of being hurt again._ He was more hurt now that he ignored it for so long than he would have been if he had befriended more humans and watched them die. The pain was not the sharp, agonizing burst of grief he had encountered when Sora and Kairi had died, but a throbbing, persistent burning in the depths of his heart. He knew very well that this sorrow would last much longer, perhaps for the rest of his life. A shallower, more superficial regret was also present, but it was there all the same. He was still fascinated with evolution, biological and societal, and he had missed out on the past few thousand years of the Destiny Islands' evolution. If he wasn't currently dwelling on the deeper regret, he'd be kicking himself over the missed opportunity.

"Riku?" Leiya asked tentatively beside him. She and their son had sat silently on either side of Riku as he brooded, unsure of what to say, but he had been mute now for too long. "Riku, what's troubling you?"

Her mate sighed slowly, and just as slowly told them his thoughts and feelings.

"I'm sorry, Riku," Leiya said quietly, touching his hand. He nodded a bit, but his eyes stayed veiled, looking off into the distance, focusing on nothing.

"Maybe we should leave this place," Tanis suggested, a little cautious of inciting his father's wrath. He knew Riku's temper was less explosive and slower to arousal than Sephiroth's had been, but he also knew that this was a potentially volatile subject for Riku. "You can start visiting every once in a while now, but I think you need to get away from here for the time being. Let your feelings settle and all." He swallowed when his father's vivid green stare fell upon him.

"Yes," Riku nodded after what felt like an eternity to Tanis. "Yes, I think you're right. I need time to think, and this isn't the place."

"Should we go back home, then?" Tanis asked.

"No," Riku said, standing up. "No, there is another place I want to see. I only saw it before when Ansem had me, and I want to see it now with my own eyes."

"Only when Ansem had you?" Leiya asked. "The Hallowed Bastion?"

"Hollow Bastion," Riku corrected. "Yes, that's the place. If I remember correctly, its magical concentration is almost as high as the One World's. The humans aren't magically gifted, usually, but they know how to harness the magic through artificial means."

"How do you mean?" Leiya wondered.

"Well, for one thing," Riku answered, "in the central castle, where that world's governmental seat is, they have a network of lifts that travel to all places of the castle, and they operate through magic, not any mechanical means. I'm not sure how, but I heard that Ansem had greatly improved the lift system early in his adulthood, before he began studying the secrets of the heart. Ansem was a genius, and I don't doubt that he could have done it."

"Well, then, let's go," Tanis grinned. "I wanna see this for myself."

* * *

"Man, this is cold!"

Riku blinked, the physical shock of the cold water and the indignant tone in his son's voice bringing him up short. He had meant to bring them to the Rising Falls, a natural wonder that he thought they'd enjoy seeing. Instead, he brought them to this world waist-deep on the edge of a rather chilly lake.

"Um, Riku," Leiya asked, "are you sure you have the right place?"

"This is the right world, but our entry point is off," Riku explained. "I guess I miscalculated."

"Well, recalculate, please!" Tanis said, sloshing out of the water to the lakeshore. "Now, I'm half-soaked and freezing!"

Riku ignored his son's grousing and waded out of the water as well, Leiya a little before him. He put his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun's glare as he scanned the horizon, looking for something he recognized. If he didn't find anything, he'd have to just pick a direction that he sensed civilization in and go there.

He had turned almost one hundred eighty degrees when his heart stopped. The central castle was less than a mile away, looming huge and foreboding up into the sky. What confused him more was that this was the exact same view of it that he remembered getting from the Rising Falls.

Snakes alive, Riku thought, a sudden realization coming to him. The Rising Falls are gone! They're just a lake now! But…but how?! The Rising Falls, he knew, had been fueled by the magic generated by this world's massively powerful heart, and they were not subject to weathering or wear. He had read so in Ansem's extensive library. For hundreds of generations, the Rising Falls had stayed the same, the only things needing repair being the platforms near the top, which were used as observatory decks accessible from the castle's lift system. 

"Father?" Tanis asked, seeing the shocked look on Riku's face.

"Gone," Riku said, his voice slightly thin. "The Rising Falls…they're all gone. The magic that kept them running has dried up."

"The magic dried up?" Leiya repeated, disconcerted. "But, magic flows from the world's heart. It will only begin to die when the heart begins to die, and will only stop when the world itself ceases to live. This world is still living, so how can the magic stop coming?"

Riku merely shook his head, unable at the moment to say that he didn't know. Something was wrong. Things were definitely not right around here. He took off toward the castle, Tanis and Leiya following.

The castle was built, seemingly precariously, on a huge spire of rock, its foundations well above the general surface of the planet. It used to be accessible from the ground via the lift system, and Riku received a second shock when he saw massive elevator towers instead. These were strictly mechanical contraptions, not a trace of magic anywhere in their operation. Not only that, but the many balconies and suspended porches were connected by walkways and what looked like more elevators that went horizontally as well as vertically. Everything was fenced, clearly to keep people from falling off. The network of walkways and elevator cables and motors crisscrossed the outside of the castle, making it look cluttered and ugly to him. The castle he remembered, with the shimmering "ropes" that guided the lifts hanging here and there like spider's silk, was so much more beautiful, so much more aesthetic. He didn't like this one bit. Ansem's family crest could still be seen, half of it seemingly broken away to show huge clockworks behind, but it was overshadowed by the mechanical means used to get around now.

"This is wrong," Riku said, landing on the long balcony that led to the main entrance. No one was there at the moment, so no one saw the three strange people arrive. He looked to his right. The lift that went down to the waterway was gone, along with the crystalloid statue that acted like a control panel. In their place was a boxy black elevator, suspended on cold, metal cables and wheels. Looking at the large gate that led to the entrance hall, he saw that the doors were mechanically operated as well. This whole castle, once so awe-inspiring and alive by its many magical things, now seemed dead and rotting, unsightly machines blotting out its natural beauty.

"Riku?" Leiya asked, sensing her mate's dismay. "What do we do?"

"Make yourself look human," he told her and Tanis. "Retract your wing and suppress the glow in your eyes. I don't think we will be welcome here if we don't look human."

They spent hours exploring. To Riku's immense relief, the inside of the castle looked much like he remembered. It was not exactly the same, but no significant changes were made. In the large hollow shaft that once housed the lift center were now elevators and such, but he expected that. The building was much older than when he last saw it, and everywhere he saw signs of repair and renewal to keep it from falling apart with age. Still, as much as the inside still looked as he remembered it, he could not shake the feeling of wrongness that seemed to permeate everything. Something had changed drastically and irreversibly, and he couldn't figure out what. It was like all the magic had been sucked out of the world known as Hollow Bastion.

They spent more time in the large library than elsewhere. Here Riku learned, through reading older books that looked like they hadn't been touched in years, that the magic had indeed slowed and died many generations back, rendering the lifts and other magical features of the castle useless. This only troubled Riku more. All the magic gone? How? Why?

_How could this happen?_ Riku asked internally. _This was once such a beautiful and wondrous world. What made it so…so _normal_ like this?_ On the library walls was a very long series of paintings. They were portraits of the many leaders Hollow Bastion had known since this castle had been constructed many ages ago. Looking at the labels below them, he saw how the letters had evolved. What was under the most recent was not the same at all as what was under the first.

About halfway through, he found Ansem's portrait. He looked a little different than Riku remembered. When they had met and merged, Ansem had been consumed by darkness and madness, his mind eroded and eaten away by the ever-present torment afforded to those who were foolish enough to try to harness the evilest of forces. The malevolent power was so potent, that even though Ansem had meant to understand, not own, he had still fallen prey to it, broken and twisted into something he would have been horrified to look upon, had his mind still been his own. His body had been destroyed, leaving his soul homeless, and he had needed to possess Riku's body to further his plans for the darkness. This portrait Riku was looking at must have been done before he had started his research. His eyes were not orange, instead hazel, and a genuine kindness shone out of them. His look was overall softer and gentler, closer to what Riku would expect from a sage than what he had seen of him before.

_Ansem_, Riku sighed to himself. _What happened to you in Kingdom Hearts? Where did your soul flee? Are you in the afterlife now, or are you a wandering ghost, doomed to torture until your unfinished business is resolved?_ Ever since regaining control of himself in Kingdom Hearts, Riku had harbored a deep regret concerning Ansem. It was not something he could help, but he still regretted it. Ansem had been greatly loved and respected by his people, despite his youth as a leader—he couldn't have been more than thirty when he fell to the darkness—and he had destroyed the world he had cherished so much, driven to insanity merely by his thirst for knowledge, his quest to understand the evil that threatened his people and his home. If Riku could go back in time and fix just one thing, he knew that saving Ansem's heart and preventing the holocaust that he had caused would probably be it. He had never told anyone, but one night soon after returning to the Destiny Islands with Sora, he had thought about all that that man had gone through and all that it had caused, and he had wept for the injustice of it all.

Leiya and Tanis were not far away, sitting at a small table and looking at maps of the world, some very old and some newly made. Riku looked at them, a deep love for them in his heart, but also a guilty feeling of jealousy. Ylfen had strong emotions, but he was suspicious of the strength of his own emotions. He had a feeling that his mixed blood blessed and cursed him with stronger than normal feelings. The ambitious, brash human within him combined with the direct contact with his own soul that his ylfe side allowed him, and the result was something wholly unique. His father had told him to be proud of his unusual heritage, but he often found himself wishing he was more like everyone else. He seemed to feel nostalgia and regret for things lost more than true ylfen, and it troubled him, making it harder for him to rest.

"There you are," a familiar yet entirely unexpected voice said from behind him. He whipped around.

"Cloud!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?!"

"Oh, I've been here for several days," he said, nodding hello to Tanis and Leiya. "I heard a little while ago that three strange visitors had come to the castle, one with silver hair and the others with red hair, and I knew it had to be you three. I came looking for you to say hello."

The two of them sat down at the table with Leiya and Tanis, and they discussed the changes made in the Many Worlds. Cloud had visited this dimension many times since Riku had last, and he could fill his younger cousin in about what was happening elsewhere. It was the same everywhere as in Hollow Bastion. The magic slowly faded after the upheaval concerning the Keyblade, and one by one, the worlds became completely unmagicked. It and other supernatural forces were now only legend to the Many Worlds' inhabitants, and few still believed that it had ever really existed. The walls between the worlds were still very much in place, and science had not yet found a way to pass them. Indeed, the existence of other worlds was now a rare belief. It had been so long since the very brief period of time that the knowledge of other worlds had been widespread, that very few people even thought of the possibility anymore. The points of light in the night sky were once again just that: Tiny dots of white and color that accompanied the moon—or moons—in the nightly trek from horizon to horizon.

"But…why?" Riku finally asked. "Why has the magic drained from the Many Worlds like this? Why did it stop coming from the world hearts? Do you know?"

Cloud was silent for several minutes. "I think I might know," he said finally. "I've thought about it for a long time, and I have a theory. It's the only thing that makes sense to me."

"What is it?" Riku asked.

"Come with me," Cloud said, standing up. "I should show you something first."

He led them through the winding hallways and corridors of the castle, steadily going up the whole time. Finally, they emerged into a large, ornate chamber. Riku recognized this place. There was a raised area at the back where he and Sora had dueled with their Keyblades, Ansem's thoughts overshadowing his own. Above that raised area was the sage's family crest—which Riku had realized by now wasn't just a family crest, but the symbol of the sovereignty of Hollow Bastion's leader—and before it was a narrower portion of the room that served as a sort of entrance area.

Cloud led them up the steps on one side of the room to the raised area. The room was deserted except for them.

"Look there," Cloud said, pointing to the large heart-like shape.

Riku did look, but he also felt himself drawn toward it. It was a beautiful relief, looking like it was made of fine white marble, the details done in polished gold. He touched the stem of it, feeling the coolness through his thin leather gloves. Laying his forehead against it, he breathed in deeply.

"Yes, I remember," he said softly. "The Keyhole was here. I can faintly feel the world's heart beating. It is still as strong as it ever was."

"If that's true," Cloud said, "and you can feel the heart through the sealed Keyhole, then you're unique in that. I can't feel it, and I don't think anyone else can."

"I am the true Keyblade Master," Riku reminded him. "That's probably why I can."

"Yeah," Cloud nodded slowly. "Now, think for a moment, Riku. Magic comes from a world's heart, and the strength and concentration of that magic have to do with the strength and concentration of the world's heart. The Keyholes led to those world hearts, and Hollow Bastion's Keyhole was one of several that Sora sealed with the Keyblade. When he and the mouse king sealed Kingdom Hearts, all the Keyholes that were still open sealed themselves as tightly as if Sora had sealed them individually. The outlets for the worlds' magic were closed."

Realization dawned on Riku, and he almost collapsed to his knees from the bitterness. Kingdom Hearts, and all the Keyholes, had to be sealed to save the Many Worlds from the Heartless, to keep them safe. However, in the process, the sources of the Many Worlds' magic were forever confined, unable to emit magic to their worlds anymore. The magic in each world had slowly faded, and eventually disappeared, never to be replaced or replenished. Much that was bright and beautiful in the Many Worlds was gone forever. It was a heavy price to pay to keep the Heartless from taking over.

"I'm sorry, Riku," Cloud said softly, touching Riku's shoulder. "There was nothing anyone could do about it."

Riku nodded slowly, but a strange tingling sensation went through him at Cloud's touch. He looked back at his blond companion and realized that the glow in his eyes was not suppressed due to trying to appear human. It was not suppressed at all. It was failing. Riku grew cold as he realized what it meant.

Cloud's soul was fading. He was dying.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:** Yay, finally done with this chapter. I've been working on it for around a week, and only just now got a chance to finish it. I do, however, have an excuse better than depression or unkind circumstances this time. I've been busy lately, because I got a job! I was really feeling down about the results of my job-hunting, when I got a call from the veterinary clinic my aunt works at, asking if I was still interested in a job I had interviewed for a month or so before but was not chosen for. I guess their first pick didn't turn out as good as they had hoped, so I got it now. I work in the kennel area, feeding, cleaning, and taking care of the animals. It's not the most glamorous job, but I really like it. I get to work with animals, my coworkers are great people, and the pay is good. I think it's the best job I could hope for with my interests and education level (I've yet to get into college…something I hope to remedy soon). I think there's no more pathetic sight than a sick, miserable animal, and I like to think I help them feel a little better as they get healthy again. I especially like working with the kitties.

Anyway, enough about me. I hope this chapter doesn't seem a little…disconnected? I dunno, but I could have connected scenes a little better, I think. Or, maybe that's just me. The ending was also a little abrupt. Did that detract from it, or did I do it well? Man, some parts seem wordy. I'd like to know if you think the wordiness was a good thing or a bad thing. Let me know what you think in a review or email to mangareaderhotmail.com, onegai shimasu!


	18. Memory Overload

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Gah…over a month since the last chapter. I'm sorry! I've been busy at work and other things. Once again, I hope I'll start writing more frequently after this. Keep your fingers crossed.

I got very little feedback from chapter seventeen. I don't expect people to shower me with accolades or anything, but the developments in the last chapter were quite heavy. I kinda expected more reaction than what I got. Oh, well…

**Separate Destinies**

By Annie-chan 

Chapter Eighteen: Memory Overload 

"Cloud!"

The blond swordsman stopped and turned as Riku ran toward him. "Yes?" he asked the younger man, as if he was quite unconcerned by anything.

"What happened to you?" Riku asked, slightly out of breath. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is the matter, Riku," Cloud assured him. "I'm all right. Trust me."

"No, you're not," Riku protested, as if speaking to someone who habitually fudged the truth.

Cloud sighed and turned back toward his bedroom door, opening it and going inside.

"I felt it, Cloud," Riku continued, following inside. "Your soul is losing its grip on your body, and your eyes aren't as bright as they used to be. What happened to you? Why are you dying?" As the last word left his mouth, Riku felt a sharp twinge of pain. Saying it out loud made it seem so much more real than before.

The older man sighed again and motioned for Riku to close the door. "I have lived a long time, Riku," he said slowly. "Perhaps it is just my time to die."

Riku looked down, feeling guilty. Yes, Cloud had lived for a long time, and he had to die someday, just like everyone else. This denial Riku was feeling now seemed more than a little childish, but he was still no more receptive to the idea. "But…you've never met your soulmate." The words sounded weak and flimsy in the still air, and he knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. Cloud, who was facing away from him, stiffened up, and Riku could see the black leathery wing trembling slightly.

"Yes," Cloud whispered finally, relaxing again. "I never have met her. Or him."

"Him?" Riku asked. "You're a man. Wouldn't your soulmate be a woman?"

"Usually, yes," Cloud explained, sitting on the bed. "The vast majority of ylfen have a soulmate that is the opposite sex, but it is a very rare occurrence—perhaps one out of every couple thousand or so—that one's soulmate is of the same gender. It never happens to one who isn't attracted to their own sex in the first place. Your mother was not attracted to other women, so her soulmate was most certainly a man, but your father, though he didn't entertain the notion very often, did find other men to be as beautiful and eye-catching as women. Again, odds are that he would be mated to a woman, and he was, but there was always the slight chance that his soulmate would have been born as another male. It is because fate sometimes matches two men or two women that we do not look upon homosexuality as a bad thing. Strange, maybe, but not bad."

Riku nodded slowly. In his "experimental" days, before he met Leiya, he did on occasion share his bed with another young male. He had never really thought of the idea, however.

"Anyway," Cloud said, dismissing the subject, "you're right. I never did meet my soulmate." His voice dropped, sadness creeping in. "I never will. Not in this life."

"How can you say that?" Riku asked, struck by the conviction in Cloud's voice. "You might meet her tomorrow."

"No, Riku," Cloud shook his head. "I'm getting old, and if I haven't met her yet, I probably won't meet her, but I'm sure now that it is impossible before I die."

"Why?" the silver-haired one asked.

"About a month ago," Cloud said slowly, "I felt a strange sensation. A freezing cold shot through me, beginning at the base of my skull, coalescing around my heart, then flowing quickly down my spine. When it ceased, I felt a deep, hollow feeling, as if hopelessness was grasping at me, trying to overwhelm me. I recovered after several minutes, and I felt fine afterward, but I couldn't find anything to explain the cause. It wasn't until about a week and a half ago that I began thinking about it again. Since then, I've been feeling my strength drain from me, the fire of my spirit dying down, the passions and enthusiasms that I've lived with for centuries fading until I can hardly tell they're there anymore. My mind doesn't realize it, but my soul knows that its other half is gone from this world. I never met her, never looked into her eyes, so our souls were never bound together. Her death did not shred my soul, as it would have had we known each other, but…I feel so horribly alone, lost. I want to die, Riku, to finally find and join with her."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Riku whispered after Cloud was silent for several moments. "I was wrong to think you were giving up."

"Oh, I am giving up," Cloud said, "and it's only natural for someone to wish their friends could live a little longer than they do."

"It's only natural to follow your soulmate into death, too," Riku replied. "I can't wish you would stay longer. It wouldn't be right."

"Oh, Riku," Cloud chuckled, standing again. "You are still on the young side of things. The world still separates out into black and white for you, with a small gray area in between. There are few things that are not either right or wrong for you, are there?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "Right and wrong do exist, little cousin, but not as strongly as most people start out believing. It always depends on who you are, what you want, and what is best for you. You'll learn in time that there are very few absolute truths in life, or beyond."

"Father used to say that the only real certainty in life is death," Riku murmured, remembering the tall, tormented man to whom he looked so similar.

"I can believe that," Cloud nodded. He touched Riku's shoulder. "I have a favor to ask you."

"What is it?" Riku asked.

"Stay with me until I'm gone," Cloud answered. "I don't ask that you spend every second with me—I won't keep you from continuing your life during this period—but of all the people I have met, you are the last one alive I really care about and love. Please, will you…?" He trailed off into silence.

"I will," Riku said. "I'll stay with you, Cloud."

Cloud dipped his head down briefly in an abbreviated nod, then returned to the bed, sitting back down, now a little shakier than he was before. "Thanks, Riku."

* * *

Riku turned the silver knob slowly, opening the door silently. It had been several days since Cloud had told Riku hat he was dying, and the blond warrior couldn't be far away from his final moments. He was quickly losing strength, and Riku felt his spirit growing dimmer with every passing hour.

The silver-haired man frowned as he walked toward the bed. He did not like this dying business. Not at all. Many ylfen die violent deaths, either from accidents or in combat with someone or something, and those who do not fade slowly, wasting away until their souls can no longer hang onto their bodies. Most who died in the second way did so in mental and spiritual anguish, having lost their soulmate, the world no longer holding any joy for them at all. All they know in their last few days or weeks is black despair, and death itself is a blissful release. There were few truly peaceful deaths for his father's people.

_My people_, he reminded himself. He was counted among the ylfe population as much as if he was a pureblooded member, but he often still thought of himself as an outsider looking in. His life in the One World was by now many times longer than his life in the Many Worlds, but some small part of him still held onto his initial lifestyle.

He sighed softly as he sat down in the edge of the bed. Cloud was breathing slowly, sleeping. Riku often wondered why those whose souls begin to fade like this don't just end it on their own, or ask someone else to. There were so many ways. A sharp object or poison would be the quickest ways, perhaps. But, no, they linger on, letting themselves die at the soul's slow pace. Perhaps it is the ylfen's deep love for the beautiful planet they call home that causes them to take such a long time.

_I wonder what the afterlife is like_, Riku wondered, settling himself. Surely, it would be better than the mortal life. Or perhaps not. He knew many of the different interpretations of the afterlife as set down by several different religions in the Many Worlds, but he had not heard word one about it in the One World. Did they know, or did they not know, and therefore are not hazarding any guesses? Even if he had heard of it here, there was no guarantee the ylfen would be right. All he knew was that death allowed soulmates to reunite. Did the dead all go to the same place, or are the righteous separated from the wicked? What defined righteousness and wickedness? Is there really sin, and is it punished in the afterlife? If so, is the punishment eternal, or does it stop once the sinner is "reformed"? Is there such thing as reincarnation? Do the people of the Many Worlds all go to the same afterlife? Do they go to the same afterlife as the people of the One World? Oh, God, he hoped so. If he would never see his childhood friends again, especially Sora and Kairi, not even in death, he would feel deeply wronged. A reunion with some loved ones would have less meaning if a reunion with other loved ones were impossible.

Again, his thoughts drifted over to a man to whom he was almost a physical twin. It had been a long time now since Sephiroth had finally died, and Riku still sometimes found himself thinking about him. What was he doing now? Was he happy? He had to be happier in the afterlife than he was before he died. He was rejoined with the one who mattered far more to him than anyone else did. He knew that for a fact. He had felt the ecstatic joy as his father's departing soul remelded with Wenna's waiting spirit. It was one of the strongest emotions he had ever felt in his life that didn't come from his own heart.

"Mm…Riku?" a soft voice murmured. Looking down, he saw that Cloud was awake. His once brilliant blue eyes now had only the smallest, fainted spark shining deep in them.

"Yeah, it's me," Riku nodded, a small smile flitting across his cheeks. Though not as strong as when his father had died, he was again feeling a strange mixture of sorrow and happiness. He was grieving for his cousin's imminent demise, but at the same time he was glad that Cloud's mortal struggles were finally closing, freeing him to whatever and whoever was waiting for him on the other side of death.

"I think…just a few minutes more…" the shorter man whispered. He did not move as Riku took his hand. His skin was paler than usual and cold.

"I'll miss you, Cloud," Riku said, feeling his emotions welling up again. "I'm sorry things weren't better for you." Only a small percentage of ylfen do not find their soulmates before death, and most of those do not due to a premature death. Cloud had lived quite a long time, and yet had still not found his other half.

"Nah, it's all right," Cloud replied. "Could have been much worse."

"Say hello to my father for me, will you?" Riku asked.

"Heh…will do, kid," Cloud chuckled briefly. It was the last thing he would ever say.

They sat there in silence for an unknown amount of time. Riku lost count of the minutes, and he wouldn't be able to tell if it was a long time or a short time. However long it was, Riku finally felt Cloud's wavering spirit go out like a dying candle flame, the last bit of light draining from his eyes. Though he had seen it before, Riku still shuddered to watch the change in the eyes as someone dies. What were once windows to the soul were now just flat, lifeless balls of nerve tissue with the jelly-like vitreous humour inside. Riku looked away and passed his hand over Cloud's face, closing the eyelids.

"Rest in peace, dear friend," he said softly. "Until we meet again."

* * *

The halls seemed uncommonly quiet now. They always were quiet, but the silence was now tangible, almost as if one could reach out and grasp a handful.

It was two days since Cloud's pyre had burned, the wind scattering his ashes over the wide plains surrounding Aerie's great chasm. Riku had said little since before then. He had not cried at all. He grieved deeply, but he did not cry. Cloud would have not liked for Riku to shed tears over him, over a death willingly accepted, so he did not. Tears did not try to force their way out, nor did they gnaw at his insides, making him feel ready to burst. They just did not come, as if honoring Cloud's wishes.

Riku stopped his slow trek through the main hall, looking at the door he was now in front of. This was the door behind which Sephiroth had once accumulated hundreds of bloody skulls, some with flesh still hanging off of them. After Riku had managed to get him to promise not to kill kitschen for revenge anymore, Sephiroth had disposed of the "prizes"—how, Riku was unsure—and he had sterilized the room right down to the walls. That was centuries ago now. Nevertheless, the room had stood empty and silent, the only thing filling it being the pitch-blackness. Even the shelves that were once there were gone. The room had taken on a strange quality. The mere thought of using it for something else caused a chill to shoot down one's spine, a feeling of dread and ill omen accompanying it. Those four walls had enclosed ghastly reminders of a day gone horribly wrong countless years ago, and to use it for a more innocent purpose was unthinkable. Whatever went in there would be tainted by the room's long history as a grisly trophy room.

"I need to get a hold of myself," he sighed aloud, leaning against the closed door. Still, even acknowledging that, he had no desire to use that room. Perhaps Tanis or his children would use it, but Riku knew he would not. His son had never seen what he had seen lying scattered about the room, stacked on closely hung shelves that almost covered the walls. "Ugh, I need to think of something else."

He cleared his mind, pushing the unwelcome memories out of his head, sighing slowly as a peaceful darkness filled his thoughts. He let other memories trickle in of their own accord, filling the empty spaces and melding together into the jumble of thoughts and words that make up one's conscious mind. It was a relaxing technique, and Riku often did it as a way to loosen himself up. It was much better than letting one's anxieties take control and make one stiff and sore.

A brief flash of his father as a very young boy flickered past his mind's eye. Immediately following was an equally brief flash of his grandparents, Sephiroth's mother and father. Riku had of course never known them, and he realized now that he didn't know much more about them than their names and what was said about them in the family history books in the library. Sephiroth had been born and grew up in this house delved into the side of the cliff, as one of his parents had. Riku was sure that the family had lived here for many generations, perhaps as far back as the founding of this ylfe settlement. He had read about his family at the library, but no biography would ever represent the true depth and personality of its subject, no matter how detailed. Again, Riku felt a sense of nostalgia for times and people he had never even been alive to know.

_Maybe…_ A possibility popped up in his head, though he at first dismissed it as farfetched. Everyone who had lived here in the past had left their very faint mark in the memory of this house. Riku, Leiya, and Tanis were leaving their own thought-shadows now, which would remain until this place crumbled. Riku was a psychic, thus very sensitive to thoughts and emotions if he opened his mind up. Maybe he could learn more about his ancestors if he tried to channel those thought-shadows.

Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind again. He let the comforting darkness linger for a few minutes, then he opened his mind again. This time, however, he did it in a very precise way, feeling about in the house's "consciousness" for the memories of past residents.

Slowly, very slowly, the thoughts came in. Riku could find no words to describe it. He merely felt.

The knowledge that came to him was vague, yet at the same time there was a wealth of information for him to draw upon. He did not get into the minds of those who came before him, but it was as if he were witnessing a long montage of different lives, different personalities. All those who had lived here, who were born and had died here, were now open to him, and he could feel it all as if they were his own thoughts and emotions, his own needs and desires. His curiosity, however, was not satisfied. He wanted to know more, to feel more, to come closer to those who had long ago departed. He wanted to experience what they experienced more deeply than he was now. He opened his mind further.

It was a horrible mistake.

Riku gasped and stiffened. Opening his mind further and digging deeper than he had started was like throwing the switch to open straining floodgates. Information of all kinds was now pouring into his mind. The sheer amount of lives that had been lived here, for generations uncounted, was now beating against him, assaulting him for his insolence. The past must stay the past, and he had tried to make it the present, if only in his own head.

"N-no…!" he cried, sinking to his knees. "No more! Stop!" His fingers fisted in his hair, as if trying to claw the memories from his brain with his own fingernails. He tried to close the connection, but it was no use. If anything, the flood of information only got harder, more intense. He had tapped into an unexplored vein, looking for a stream to slake his thirst at. Instead, he had found a raging torrent. He fell to the floor, still clutching his head. He never realized it, but he screamed shrilly, his voice echoing down the hallway. His sight went black, his hearing reduced to a high ringing. Oh, God, _it hurt so much…_

A pair of strong arms wound around him, pulling him up. His son had found him, but he had no way of knowing what was ailing his father, who looked now as if struggling with a nightmare, stiff and shaking, unable to tear the unseen horrors from his mind's eye.

"Mother!" Riku heard Tanis calling both verbally and mentally through the din. The young man was terrified, finding his father suffering greatly, yet from an unknown cause. "MOTHER!"

Something snapped in Riku's mind, all incoming information coming to a crashing halt. He was suddenly suspended in an empty void, isolated from thought, time, and sensation. Absolute nothing was the last thing he felt.

To be continued… 

**Author's Notes:** Gaaaaah…my ideas always sound so cool in my mind, when I'm thinking them as if watching a TV show or movie, but when I try to put them into words, they seem so awkward and clunky. Bleah. I'm not quite as satisfied as I had hoped I would be with the ending scene, with Riku's mind getting flooded with information, but it's the best I can do. I hope it's good enough. I think I used "thought", "emotion" and "feel" too often. Double bleah. Of course, they say your toughest critic is always yourself, so I hope that's the case here. It's been too long since I've written anything (over a month), so I guess I need to get back into the swing of things. Maybe next chapter will be better, at least to me. I'd like to know what you think of this chapter, as well as the last, since there was little response to chapter seventeen. I hope that's not because of some problem with it not showing up. Let me know if that's the case, as well as telling me what you think of this in a review or email, onegai shimasu!

I don't know why I put that bit in about sexual orientation. I usually just put my fingers to the keyboard to write my fics, and that just happened to come out while typing this chapter. Eheh...


	19. A Gesture of Peace

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer.

_OPM_ says that _Kingdom Hearts II_ won't be released until Spring 2005. That's at least six months longer than I had first heard and hoped was true. I wanna see new Riku and Sora! I'm also upset about _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children_ being delayed. They often say that the best things are worth waiting for. I hope that's the case here.

****

**Separate Destinies**

By Annie-chan

Chapter Nineteen: A Gesture of Peace 

The room was deadly silent.

Riku lay in a dormant state on his and Leiya's bed, his mate sitting on the edge beside him, keeping an unending vigil over her silent partner. Their son had found him in some sort of seizure in the main hallway ten days ago, and Riku had very suddenly stiffened, then gone limp, as if all strength had been sucked out of him. Leiya and Tanis had both been sore afraid that he would die, but he had not changed since then. It seemed as if he were in a sound sleep, but no amount of effort from them would wake him. Only once had his eyes opened, but they were glassy and dilated, signaling no present consciousness. Leiya had looked away and closed them again. To see those beautiful eyes so shallow and featureless was to put an even greater fear in her heart. What if he was trying to die? What if whatever struck him was meant to kill him, but his soul was somehow trapped in his body? What if he never came out of his strange trancelike state? She couldn't bear the thought of her love suffering a living death like that.

She was frustrated to her core. She had spent her life studying the healing arts, learning and perfecting the soothing magic that mended wounds, purged sickness and poison, and banished pain. She still considered herself learning, every day seeking to refine her skills, make herself more useful should a disaster happen. Yet, for all her effort and knowledge, there was nothing she could do for Riku. His body was sound and healthy, strong and resilient. There was no physical problem for her to fix. Whatever it was that kept him from waking was beyond her reach. All she could do for her mate was watch over him and pray.

Most frightening of all was his mind. She had probed him gently but desperately, calling for him, pleading with him to come back. She had felt nothing. He would not let her in. A barrier had been erected between his mind and the outside world so powerful, that not even his soulmate could penetrate it. It was like he was rejecting her, mistrustful of her to the point that he would no longer allow her to truly be close to him. She had wept bitterly when her repeated attempts to touch him failed.

_It is not entirely unexpected_, a tiny part of her whispered. It was her irrational, assuming part, the small portion of her mind that always assumed the worst. Everyone had such a side to them, and it always emerged when things are at their worst. She tried to quiet it, but to no avail.

"No," she shook her head. "He wouldn't do that. He couldn't do it."

_It was thought impossible_, the whisper continued, _but his father defied that "natural law". He betrayed his soulmate, coupling with a human woman hardly worth the dirt under his feet._

Leiya paused, looking at Riku's relaxed face. Whatever she may say, that fact remained the same: Sephiroth had not only survived an unnaturally long time after Wenna's death, but he had also mated with another woman, a human that he barely knew and who grew to hate him for his nonhuman blood. Riku had been born from that union. He was the product of something altogether _wrong_.

_Like father, like son_, the whisper leered as a sick feeling washed over her.

"No," she said again, forcing herself to composure again. "Fate demanded Riku's birth, and Sephiroth was in a mad haze. He couldn't be held responsible for what he had done." She gently stroked Riku's cheek. "I have absolute faith in him. He will not betray our union."

The voice was silent, speaking no more.

Leiya slid off the bed after a few moments, shedding her clothes and putting on a nightgown. It was late, and she suspected Tanis to already to asleep. Willing the small lamps along the walls to dim, she climbed into bed beside Riku's still form.

He was warm, and his breathing and heartbeat were normal for a sleeping person, yet he did not stir. Leiya lay very close to him, reaching out with her left hand and grasping his, twining their fingers together. Riku often meshed their fingers together in bed, either making love or drifting off to sleep. To Leiya, it was a manifestation of the melding of their souls. His hand did not respond. She gently kissed his forehead and settled next to him, breathing him in. His comforting scent had lulled her to sleep almost every night since meeting him. The first time, after healing the massive skeletal injury he had incurred by falling to the ground from a great height, and before they had really recognized each other as soulmates, she had nearly been overwhelmed by the desire to become closer to him, to feel both their physical and spiritual union as they willingly exposed their deepest and warmest secrets to each other. Oh, she would never forget that glorious night…

She woke suddenly with a jerk. The disorientation of sudden wakefulness had just barely dissipated when she felt herself squeezed in a crushing embrace, the air almost forced out of her. Both ecstatic joy and fearful concern rose up within her when she realized what had happened. Riku had spasmed violently, waking with a sharp cry an instant later. She had been the first familiar thing he had recognized, and he had seized her tightly to him, as if he feared losing her. Now, he was whimpering shakily into her chest, so relieved to be awake that tears were flowing from his eyes.

"R-Riku!" she gasped, holding onto him as tightly as she dared. "Riku…oh, my love, my darling…" Her hands couldn't stop moving, stroking gently through his hair, over his back, across his shoulders and down his arms. She was trying to comfort and calm him as much as she was trying to convince herself that he really was awake. The mental link was reestablished between them, and she wept as well.

"Am I…really awake…?" he asked hesitantly, lifting his eyes to meet hers. He reminded her of a child frightened out of sleep by a terrible nightmare. She could only bring herself to nod.

"Riku," she asked after several minutes, waiting until both his and her tears had stopped. "What happened to you?"

"I tried to make the thought-shadows that linger in this house my own," he murmured quietly. Slowly, as if gathering his thoughts even as he spoke, he told her what he remembered of what happened, shuddering at the memory of the flood that burst into his mind, overwhelming and hurting him.

"Oh, my love," she sighed. "Let the past be the past. You can only truly be happy if you live for the future. Your own memories will suffice for you. The essence of memory and thought is a very dangerous thing to meddle with."

"I know," he whispered. "I just…I was grieving over losing Cloud, and was thinking on all that he had done. I was then overwhelmed by a curiosity to know not just about him, but _everyone_ who had ever lived here. So…I opened myself."

"Promise me you won't do it again," Leiya said, meeting his eyes again.

Riku smiled softly. "I promise, Leiya. It would kill me to worry you like that again." He brushed a kiss over her cheek, then pushed himself up, as if he were about to stand.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm wide awake now," he said. "I've been sleeping for two weeks, after all. I think I'll go get something cool to drink, then maybe go outside and watch the moons. I won't be getting any more sleep tonight." He stood, then turned and covered her up more. "You stay here and sleep, Leiya. You look exhausted." He kissed her, caressing her sweet lips lovingly, then touched her right temple with the fingertips of his left hand. As their lips parted, she relaxed completely, quickly feeling the effects of his touch. Soothing energy flowed from him to her, coaxing her into a deep, restful sleep. He could feel her mental and physical tiredness through the bond between their souls, and he knew that she was still very worried for him. That worry was pumping adrenaline and other wakeful chemicals into her blood, and if left up to her body alone, she would not rest anymore tonight. He would not stand for her losing any more sleep, so he helped her surrender to her most immediate need.

"Sweet dreams, my life," he purred into her ear. "I will see you when you wake."

* * *

The sun was rising. A crescent of gold-white light was blazing forth from the east, shimmering beams piercing through the predawn glimmer. The western sky was a deeper shade of blue, and three moons in varying stages of fullness were visible. Having ten moons, it was an everyday occurrence that one or more of the One World's satellites were visible even in the middle of the day. It was a very rare occurrence, however, that all ten moons were visible from any one place on the large planet. For all of them to be in such close proximity was cause for wonder. Their orbits hardly ever allowed such a happening.

_I wonder_, Riku thought, feeling the morning sun's heat warming him, _if you could ever see all ten moons from one spot on the world's surface, _and_ have them all completely full._ What an astonishingly rare event that would be. He had never heard of it happening before, but there was always the miniscule chance that it was possible.

Once in his life, he had witnessed a very strange phenomenon. The Blue Moon—so named for its color—was directly in front of the larger White Moon, centered almost perfectly. The effect had him thinking of a colossal eye, albeit without a pupil. It was a very uncommon positioning, and most of Aerie was outside that night to see it. It was indeed called a Night Eye, and the astronomy books in the library recorded the times it had happened over the canyon city. There was only one remembered occurrence where the tiny Black Moon, which was entirely invisible during the night, was in front of the Red Moon in front of the White Moon. The phenomenon had been visible from the area surrounding Kworey, a hillside city in the southwestern hemisphere. It had caused much amazement and even fear, many viewing it as some sign of ill fortune. Riku wasn't sure if the area experienced more misfortune than normal after that night, but he could understand where they were coming from. To see that in the night sky would be enough to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

Riku looked up into the lightening sky. One of the three moons that he could see was directly above him, and it was indeed the Black Moon. That moon always looked full, as the One World's shadow was lost on the pitch-blackness of its carbon-rich soil. It was perfectly visible if it was in the day sky, but in the night sky, it was impossible to find. People didn't even notice if it passed over them during the night.

"Riku!" a clear voice called from a ways away. He turned his gaze from the sky toward the city proper, and he saw Leiya coming toward him. She was dressed in white and light blue, her favorite colors to wear in springtime. He was in a far corner of the area protected by the city's barrier, yet he was not at all surprised that she found him here. A little while ago, he had felt her searching for him, so he had reached out and touched her consciousness, telling her where he was.

"Riku," Leiya said again, coming close. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," was his one-word reply. It was often that he fell into contemplative trances, his intelligent mind mulling over anything from the most mundane of subjects to things that hardly ever crossed the mind in everyday thought.

"About what?" Leiya asked, sitting down next to him, reaching out to take his hand.

"The moons," he answered truthfully, squeezing her delicate hand warmly.

"I see," she replied, nodding slightly.

"You didn't just come here to find me," Riku said slowly after several silent minutes.

Leiya sighed, again nodding slowly. It had been several days since Riku had recovered from his coma-like state, but he had not spoken to her of it. He had refused to until she was well rested. He knew that she had drained her energy staying beside him for those two weeks, and he wanted her to take care of herself before he told her about it. It was an incentive to get her to rest adequately.

"I feel good, Riku," she said. "I'm as rested as I can be. Please, tell me what you felt and saw during that…that trance."

"Nothing," he said. "I felt absolutely nothing. I don't even remember having any dreams. It's all darkness. The way I remember it, my mind went suddenly blank, and then, the next moment, I woke up in bed with you lying beside me, asleep." He brushed some hair away from his face. "I have no memory of the thoughts and emotions that flooded my being. I've searched all throughout myself, and I can't find any of them at all. I think my mind must have been purging them while I was unconscious, as the body purges poisons." He was glad of this. He was still curious about the past, but he would never again attempt something so dicey.

"They say that, once something is stored in your mind, it is never truly lost," Leiya pointed out.

"Perhaps they were never stored in my mind, then," Riku shrugged. "I felt them very clearly, but maybe they were played through my head without ever really entering the memory portion. That would make it easier for the mind to erase something beyond all recall."

"Mm," Leiya nodded, her head against his chest. His arm was around her, and she was leaning against him, listening to his heartbeat. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," he replied. "Don't worry about me, Leiya."

"I can't help it," she said, a tiny guilty tone creeping into her voice. She knew how Riku felt about her tendency to be anxious over what he considered small problems.

"Leiya," he sighed, "please don't do that. I want you to be happy, but if you keep worrying about so many things, you'll never be content, no matter how hard you try otherwise."

"But, Riku," she said softly, looking up at him, "I am happy. Just being near you, loving and being loved by you, makes me happy. You're everything to me."

Riku paused. He knew that was true. He felt the same way about her. Squeezing her gently, Riku let his affection flow through the link they had, warming both of them like a hot drink on a cold morning.

"Leiya," he said after a long while, the sun having climbed up into the sky, now in midmorning. "Do you mind if I go off alone?"

"Alone?" she asked. "What for?"

"It's been a long time since I've walked in the Wilds," he replied. "I think I want to see them again, but I know you don't like them."

"All right," she said slowly. "Just…promise you'll come back safely."

"I will, I will," he chuckled. On average, attacks on ylfen by kitschen were dropping, but the majority of the older race still thought of them with a mixture of fear, revulsion, and anger. Riku had never been afraid of them, though he had quite a lot of reasons to be, having been grievously wounded and almost made a victim of ritual killing. Truthfully, he felt a strange pity toward them. He supposed that they were only acting according to their nature, and were hated and reviled for it. He also supposed that the ylfen enmity toward them was equally as nature-driven, but that didn't mean he would have to side unwaveringly with his own people. Though they were fair-minded and readily opened their hearts to others, the ylfen were just as likely to be wrong about something as the kitschen were.

"Be careful," Leiya sighed.

"Don't worry, Love," Riku smiled, kissing her forehead and then extracting himself from her embrace, standing up. "I'll be back this evening at the latest. I promise."

* * *

_I should be getting back_, Riku thought, glancing at the sun. It was almost touching the western mountains, and Leiya would be expecting him to show up any minute.

It had been too long since he had explored the Wilds. He loved their feel, untamed and totally natural. Ylfen settlements almost always incorporated themselves into nature as best they could, but there was something special about the Wilds that made Riku's blood sing in his veins. It really was a pity that most ylfen feared to visit the Wilds for longer than it took to get to wherever they were going. Then, they were concentrating on traveling, watching out for danger, not absorbing the beauty of it all. Riku really was quite gutsy in this respect.

He had observed a few kitsche settlements from afar, as he once did frequently. Evolution had brought their society a long way since the first time he had seen them. Each nomadic village had its own flavor, developing semi-independently from all the others, but they did have common elements. Their weapons, clothing, shelter, and crafts were done with much more skill and attention to detail than before. The appearance of ornamentation was a sign that a culture is advancing, as the artisans have the time, means, and imagination to apply decorations and designs that have no practical purpose. Their thoughts are not solely on survival anymore. Riku felt that even the kitsche language was refined from before. It sounded less harsh and more fluid than he remembered from when he had been captured and sentenced to be sacrificed. True, the ylfe language was still much more "civilized", but there wasn't such a huge gap between them anymore.

Riku wondered if the ylfen and kitschen would ever have peace. There was much less violence between the two races as there once had been, even though the number of ylfen venturing out into the Wilds to travel to other cities was no less than it had been before. Ylfen and kitschen seemed to just ignore each other's presence more often. Still, the two peoples still harbored great mistrust and dislike for each other, and he had yet to hear an ylfe say anything positive about a kitsche.

He took one last look around the wooded area he was in, and was about to make his way back home, when a faint sound suddenly made him stop. It sounded like it came from several yards away to his right. Was that…a moan of pain? Turning quickly, he moved toward the sound. As he got closer, his suspicions were confirmed. It sounded like someone was in terrible pain, and he thought he smelled blood on the air. It was coming from a thicket nestled between several large trees, and pushed his way through to the middle after listening for any wild animals that may be nearby.

It was a kitsche. More specifically, it was a kitsche huntsman, his bloodied spear on the ground near him. He was very young, perhaps not even a full-fledged adult. He lay on his side, clutching his abdomen, upon which Riku saw a horrendous gash. Blood spilled from the wound to the ground below, and it was very possible that the arms he held tightly around himself were holding his stomach and intestines in. Blood was also dripping from his mouth and nose, and his breathing was thus gurgled and painful. He was dying, and dying quickly.

_It must have been a hunting accident_, Riku thought, stepping fully into the thicket. Kitschen usually hunted in groups, but some preferred to do it alone, going after small game for their family, not large game to split between himself and his hunting mates. From what he could see of it, the injury looked like it had been made by tusks or horns, and bloody hoof prints could be seen leading out of the thicket. The young man had apparently injured his quarry, but had in turn been mortally wounded, probably caught off guard by the ferocity of the animal's counterattack. The animal had limped away, and this man was left to die in the woods, alone and in agony. Riku's sense of pity welled up within him, and he approached the man, who drew in a watery, rattling gasp at the sight of him. It seemed that the image of a green-eyed, silver-haired ylfe with a blue-black wing was still in the kitsche consciousness. No doubt the Silver Devil legend was still told and feared. Riku idly wondered how much it had changed, as legends inevitably do.

Don't be afraid, Riku said softly, making himself understandable to the young hunter. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to heal you. He knelt down, barely outside the pool of blood soaking the dirt. Will you let me?

Shock was in the kitsche's eyes, but Riku wasn't sure if it was from his words or from the pain.

Well? he asked.

The young hunter nodded slowly.

Riku pulled his knife from a leg sheath, cutting the leather shirt off the kitsche. Then, remembering how traumatic to the nerves a powerful healing spell can be, he gently touched the boy's left temple, effectively putting him into a deep sleep. This enabled Riku to roll him onto his back and pull his arms away from his mangled abdomen. Indeed, some inner organs were visible, but it wasn't quite as shredded as he had feared. Riku removed his gloves, pushed up his sleeves, and placed his hands on the massive laceration. Concentrating, he let powerful healing energy flow down his arms and out through his hands. He felt the flesh begin to reform, shrinking the wound, putting the entrails back into the body cavity in the right positions and locations.

Sweat trickled down his face. He would be nearly exhausted by the time he was finished. This was more of a job for Leiya than for him.

Finally, many minutes later, he took his hands from the kitsche and sat back, finished. There was still a large scar over the youth's abdomen. He was a skilled healer, but he couldn't keep scar tissue from forming with wounds this extensive. It didn't really matter, though. Many kitsche tribes consider scarring to be proof of one's experience as a hunter or fighter.

He sat there, breathing a little heavily, for a long time, then picked up the smaller being, standing as he did so. The kitsche was not yet waking up, but he would be in pain when he did. Healing magic usually did not take the pain completely away. His limbs were tingly with fatigue, but he scouted out with his mind the nearest kitsche settlement, and teleported straight there. This young man needed more attentive care. The style of dress in the village was the same as this hunter was wearing, so he was definitely from this place.

Every kitsche in sight of him was staring, both at him and at the unconscious hunter in his arms. Many had looks of horror, and he knew it was both because of his looks and the fact that it probably looked like he was holding a dead kitsche. Both of them were bloody, but most of it was on the youth.

Riku did not enter the village proper, not wanting to incur the wrath of any of this hunter's townsfolk. Instead, he slowly knelt down and placed the youth gently on the ground, then stood again and backed off a few steps. He didn't look anyone in the eye, knowing it may be intimidating.

After several minutes, thee kitschen, a man and two women, ventured over, their eyes both fearful and anxious. When Riku did not move toward them, they darted over to the youth. Startled gasps where followed by joyful exclamations as they realized that he was very much alive, and with confused glances at Riku, they lifted him up and took him to their home.

Riku watched until he couldn't see them anymore, then slowly turned to leave. Ylfe magic often startled and frightened kitsche, so he wanted to get out of sight before he teleported.

Wait! a young voice called after him. He looked back, and one of the women who had taken the youth had returned, only she now carried a basin in her hands filled with clear water. She looked near to the youth's age, and her face told Riku that she must be his sister. She did not go up to him, instead stopping several paces from him and setting the basin on the ground. Please, use this to rinse the blood from your hands.

Riku turned back around. He could see fear in her eyes and hear it in her voice, but she was offering him the opportunity to clean up as a gesture of thanks. His heart went out to her, and he approached the basin. She did not move away, remaining where she knelt, though he could tell she was very much afraid of him. He knelt on the other side of the basin and did as she asked. He did not make eye contact, knowing that his bright eyes might be enough to make her change her mind about him. He didn't want her—or any kitsche for that matter—to fear him.

Thank you, he said when he had finished. Before he could take his gloves from the pocket he had stuffed them in, her smaller hand reached out and grasped his. Her skin felt warm next to his, which had been cooled by the water.

No, thank you, she said. You saved my brother's life. How can we ever repay you?

Don't, Riku replied. I do not wish you to be in my debt.

The woman nodded slowly. All the kitschen around were still watching, but murmurs were passing among them, questioning the ancient idea that ylfen cared for no one but their own kin.

I must return, Riku said, standing. My mate will be very worried about me. As he turned again to leave, he felt a warm feeling in his heart. That above all else told him that he had done well to help that young hunter. He had done the right thing today.

* * *

"Riku!"

Leiya had been waiting for Riku at Aerie's gate, indeed very anxious for his return. It was long after sunset, and she had been fearing the worst. She knew he was not dead, as the death of a soulmate was unmistakably felt no matter how far apart the two were, but she worried about all other misfortunes befalling him out in the Wilds. As soon as she had seen him come through that gate, she had run toward him and thrown herself into his arms, practically crying with relief.

"Leiya!" he laughed, holding her tightly. "I'm all right! Calm down!" Leiya could find no answer but to squeeze tighter.

"What happened?" she eventually asked when she had calmed herself. "Why are you so late?"

"Well, I—" Riku began, but he wasn't able to get any further.

"You stink of kitschen," a soft yet strong voice said from behind Riku. The guard shift had just changed at the gate, and an acquaintance of Riku's was just now being relieved of his duty for the night. There were several shift changes every day, so no one ylfe was stationed at the gate for too long a time. It was to keep the guards from becoming careless, their concentration drained from long hours of watching and waiting for people to open and close the gate for. Shorter shifts kept the guards much more alert.

"Aryn," Riku said. "Hello." Though he had a light tone to his voice, Aryn's greeting hadn't escaped him. The dark-haired man had a strange ability. He had a very strong sense of "smell" for residual auras. He could tell who you had been with for a certain amount of time after you part with the person, the length of time it took for the "scent" to fade depending on how long you spent with the person and if you touched them (and how much you touched them) or not.

Aryn also hated kitschen. They had killed his father when he was a child, and his mother had soon after died as well, wasting away in her grief.

"What were you doing, Riku?" Aryn asked. "I hope you were out killing them."

"No, actually," Riku said, smiling tightly. "I saved one's life, to tell the truth."

Both Aryn and Leiya froze, and Riku could feel their shock. Leiya's was laced with confusion and concern, and Aryn's with loathing and horror.

"You…what?" Aryn finally managed to ask, his teeth half-grit.

"I saved a kitsche's life," Riku repeated. "I found a young hunter dying from a tusk-wound. I couldn't just leave him lying there to die."

"Yes, you could!" Aryn roared, his anger making him take a step toward Riku and Leiya. "They're filthy little animals! They don't deserve to live!"

"Oh, please," Riku said. "They belong in this planet's ecology just as much as we do. If we killed them all off, the natural balance would be upset. You know that. There's even a law that says so."

"One less kitsche in the world is just _fine_ by me, and most every other ylfe in this world," Aryn hissed. "You disgust me, Riku."

Riku's green eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you can pass by a suffering person without a second thought, Aryn," he said slowly, "but I can't do that any more than I could kill my own soulmate. Pain is pain, no matter who is feeling it. No one deserves to die alone in the woods like that."

Aryn didn't answer, though he did meet Riku's stare without flinching. The shine in his brown eyes made them blaze almost red, and they looked eerie when he was angry. Finally, he broke the eye contact and departed with a sound of distaste. Walking down the footpath toward the canyon's edge, he soon took to the air in the direction of his home. In a few minutes, he disappeared, diving downward into the canyon itself.

"Riku," Leiya asked slowly after several minutes, "what happened?" He could tell that she was not happy that he had saved the life of a kitsche, but she couldn't bring herself to disapprove of his reasoning. As a healer, she understood perfectly where he was coming from. She couldn't stand to see a person suffer, and she probably would have done the very same thing if she had been in Riku's place.

Riku sighed. "Let's go home, Leiya," he answered. "I'll tell you everything."

**To be continued…**

****

**Author's Notes:** Yay, I'm done with this chapter. It's a couple days later than I had hoped, but better late than never. I've had a couple hard days at work, so I think I have an excuse.

Now, _Separate Destinies_ is going to draw to a close soon. The way I have it planned out, chapter twenty-two will be the last. That doesn't mean I won't have more than twenty-two chapters. I might (operative word: might) decide to write another chapter or two between now and the end. Don't count on it, though. I have no aversion to more chapters, but I like how I have it planned out, and probably won't change that plan. Besides, I'll have been working on this fic for more than a year by the time it's finished, and it's a good time to complete the story.

Do you like this chapter? I like it, so I hope you all do, too. Let me know in a review or an email, onegai shimasu!


	20. Family Relations

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer.

Okay, a few words of explanation: I had originally thought to make this chapter about Riku's relationship with his son, as well as Riku contemplating a few other things he's experienced that I may or may not have touched on in previous chapters. I think I do well at the inner thought thing (I hope you all agree), so that sounded like a good thing to do before the final events of the story. However, I had a better idea. I decided to write this chapter as six scenes, each scene being the feelings and thoughts of one family member directed at one of the other two. They might be rather short, but one can only do so much of a single inner monologue without running into a wall, methinks. The scenes won't be in any particular order, but I won't have to label them, as it will be quite easy to figure out who's thinking about whom. With only three family members and no duplicate relationships (like, say, with two brothers, the phrase "his brother" wouldn't be a definite identifier), there's no need even for names, really. Anyway, sorry for this chapter being late (aren't they all?), and I hope you enjoy.

**Separate Destinies**

By Annie-chan

Chapter Twenty: Family Relations

He was the very reason she lived and breathed.

She half lay on her side, propped up on one elbow, as she gazed upon her lifemate's sleeping face. He slept peacefully, silvery eyelashes resting gently on his pale cheeks, his breath coming slowly and softly. The faint, silvery light from the lamps along the walls mimicked starlight, and he was bathed in a delicate, shimmering glow. She remembered the sight of real starlight reflected in his green eyes, flickering among the sparks of light that shone from within, hinting at the incredible power he held within his soul.

Oh, he was achingly sexy…even coming home from a chase or a fight, dusty from head to foot and his hair and clothes wild. He so loved to sport with others, though he was never cruel about it. Perhaps it was the human competitiveness in him that made him so.

She had thought she had been happy before she had met him, wounded and delirious with pain. Her parents had recently passed away, but she and her brother had accepted it as best they could, determined to put it behind them after the "traditional" mourning period of one month, and get on with their lives. She found joy in nature, as well as studying the healing arts that she had been fascinated with since she was not yet full-grown. All winged creatures were dear to her, bird and insect alike. Some insects, she admitted, were ugly and lived in filth and rot, but she rarely encountered those, spending much of her time in the fields and the woods, listening to the songs of birds and sometimes coaxing them down to sit on her hand or arm, cheeping as if trying to speak to her.

Then, completely unexpected, their paths had crossed.

Moaning on the ground next to his father, who had been nearing exhaustion, his suffering had apparently drawn her immediately to him, though in retrospect, she wasn't quite sure if it was his pain alone. He had screamed in agony when she had begun to heal him, the magic searing his already tortured nerves and coming across to his stressed brain as a new pain. She hadn't realized it at the time, but her heart had thrilled at the sound of his voice. She could imagine what it sounded like when he was speaking normally, strong and smooth, the sound sending shivers down her spine when whispered softly into her ear in the dark night. When their souls had finally touched for the first time, his injuries so grievous that they required her to plunge to the very bottom of his physical being, she had begun to weep, though unable to tell those around why. Immense joy at finding him, though she hadn't fully realized it until their eyes met for the first time several hours later, mixed with grief over the agony he was in, and her eyes had stung so badly that she had had no choice but to let the tears flow.

In the years since joining with him, making his life her life and hers his, she had known true happiness. Yes, there had been sorrow, and there always will be. Even soulmates cannot live in perfect bliss, but it was the closest thing to it that she could imagine. He had been the first true test of her healing skills, and her reward for passing was a kind, loving, intelligent, strong, sensitive, thoughtful, _gorgeous_ man who thought _he_ was the lucky one in the relationship. She thought _she_ was lucky to have been fated for _him_. He was a loving mate and nurturing father, gentle when needed and firm or even rough when not. He submitted to the wants and needs of her and their son, but also asserted his right to refuse to if he thought they were being ridiculous. Soulmates love each other more than anything, and their children are a very close second, but indiscriminately indulging people, even those you love, is folly. He understood that, and wasn't hesitant to point it out when he felt he needed to.

Gently stroking his cheek, she leaned over him and pressed their lips together. Her soft, pink tongue flickered out, brushing against his mouth, eliciting a faint sigh from him. Without warning, a strong arm wound tightly around her waist and pulled her to him, making her gasp. He had felt her in his sleep and decided to bring her closer, never really waking at all.

Recovering from the surprise, she relaxed against him, laying her head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. They had made love earlier, briefly but very deeply felt, and then he had drifted away while her musings about him had kept her awake. They were not intimate every night, nor was it always long and drawn out. Their love went far deeper than physical need, so they were many a night content to curl up against each other, perhaps engaging in a gentle, chaste touching that soothed away stress and care instead of triggering the urge for sex.

She closed her eyes, soft words reaching her ears for several minutes before she realized that he was awake and speaking to her. Before she could respond, or even fully realize what he was saying, she felt a tender hand caressing through her hair, a sudden tiredness sweeping through her with such strength that it was not to be ignored. Succumbing to his gentle yet irresistible will, she tumbled quickly into a deep, relaxing sleep, her head pillowed on his chest, just the way she had left it.

* * *

He was both an inspiration and an antagonist.

One side of him ached from an unexpected wrestling match with his father, which he chided himself that he was in fact the instigator. He had never been as physically strong as his father, nor was he likely ever to be. It didn't bother him, but he sometimes forgot…

Though he had been no pushover, his own strength and endurance putting up a good fight for a long while, he had eventually felt his body give out, and was pinned rather roughly on the hard rock that made up the edge of the canyon, most of his weight on his right side. Giving up, he had been released and playfully chidden for his momentary arrogance, and then left to make his way back home on his own. His mother, concerned, had asked if he wanted her to disperse his pain, but he politely refused. His father, though not unreasonably unsympathetic, had told him (out of his mother's hearing) that if every little hurt and illness were healed at first sign, the body would become weak, unable to withstand discomfort or mend itself. His father loved his mother dearly, but didn't exactly approve of her wish to stop any and all pain that they felt.

He sighed softly as he lay back, putting his hands behind his head. The earliest memory he had of his father was crawling up on the couch in the family room, where his father was dozing lightly, and yanking the long silver hair so hard that his mother had heard the cry of surprise and pain several rooms away. He had been carried by the back of his shirt collar to his confused mother, his father saying with a forced smile that he was lucky to be _their_ child. He didn't seriously believe that his father would have hurt him if he hadn't been theirs, but he didn't doubt that he had hurt and angered his father, if inadvertently.

His father had never been soft on him. He had been told that his grandfather had not babied his father, and there was no reason for him to be babied in turn. During his ten-year training period, he had often come home exhausted on the days he trained with his father, but he was grateful for it. His father had said that the humans in the Many Worlds say "no pain, no gain", meaning one must push themselves past their limits in order to strengthen themselves and raise those limits. He was more adept at magic, taking to the training his mother gave him more easily, but he had many times surpassed what he believed himself capable of with his father. He was now a strong young man, as healthy and athletic as he could hope to be.

Make no mistake; he and his father did have their tender moments. When he had discovered that a friend of his had died suddenly, poisoned by an infected wound that hadn't been properly cleaned or bandaged, his father had been the first to find him and the first to comfort him. He had cried bitterly upon his father's shoulder, clutching at him as if afraid that he, too, would die if he let go. His father had lost very dear friends of his own many years ago, so he had known very well what his son had been feeling then.

He often found his father brooding, either staring into space or sunken into a half-conscious trance. He knew that his father was psychic, and sometimes experienced random visions of past, present, or future, but he had never learned to tell when his father was seeing something no one else could see, or merely immersed in his own thoughts. In truth, he wasn't sure if anyone could tell. Usually, the first sign was if his father came out of it without incident, or else jerked awake, seemingly confused about where he was. The latter was mostly caused by a vision that came and went with no warning.

To be honest, he feared for his father. What he had heard about his grandfather was often eerie or disconcerting. Madness, blind rages, and randomly occurring fits plagued his father's father, and he knew, but had not seen for himself, that his father had inherited the ability to go completely berserk when stressed a certain way. Thank the powers it apparently only happened when his father discovered that his loved ones were in mortal danger, or when frustrated beyond comprehension. His grandfather had had a very real reason to lose his grip on reality, but he still worried about his father. Would madness manifest itself in his father, too? The family was "normal"—except for the fact that human blood flowed in the men's veins—but sanity was never certain for anybody. Some people are fated to be mad, and no amount of "normalcy" will prevent it.

Human blood…he was one-quarter foreign, his father being a true half-breed. Never before had a child been born to an ylfe and a human, and never since has it happened again. The union between his grandparents was unnatural, and many saw it as sick and wrong, having defied the exclusive bond between soulmates, but it was not to be helped. His father had shown him the case of strange keychains that he had received from two childhood friends upon those friends' deaths, and he had heard all about the Keyblade and the upheaval in the Many Worlds that its appearance had caused. He knew the names Sora, Kairi, Ansem, Maleficent, and many others that he had no faces to identify them with. His father had described many of those people in detail, but he had only seen one with his own eyes, and it was only a painting of that person. He had seen Ansem's portrait on the wall of the library in Hollow Bastion's central castle, and he had felt a strange sense of wonder that that man had possessed his father, taking near total control, enslaving his body and nearly doing the same to his mind and soul. His father, though, had been a very young child when that had happened, not even aware that his DNA and his destiny was so very different than that of everyone around him.

He sat up when he felt his stomach grumble, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since this morning. Almost all ylfen, both males and females, knew how to cook, and his parents had made sure he knew how to prepare his own food. Not only that, but he'd feel like a spoiled child if he couldn't fend for himself, both in the kitchen and out in the world. Pushing himself up from his bed, he headed out the door and down the hall toward the outer rooms.

* * *

He was his pride and joy.

His son had grown up wonderfully, enduring the sometimes harsh training he had been put through and coming out the other side all the better for it. He had given his son the same break-the-limits training as his own father had given him, and the result was a strong, skilled young man who wasn't afraid of pain or losing. His son's stronger affinity for magic, however, made him more of a mage than a warrior, but it was no disappointment. He was just as proud as his son's magical skills as he was of his physical skills. The boy's mother had trained him well.

Ah, and such a resemblance. His son looked very much like his mate, very little visual evidence that they were father and son. It was just as well. He had received much attention, especially from the opposite sex, for his rare hair and eye colors, and he hadn't always liked it. He was beautiful, yes, but beauty could be a nuisance as much as it could be a blessing. His mate was beautiful in a different way, and their son likewise. Their brown eyes were a little strange in this canyon city, much more common in the forest communities that live nearer the sunshine.

He was sitting near the edge of the canyon, looking down upon the many balconies and verandas in the cliff face opposite him, most of them looking like tiny irregularities in the limestone. He could feel his son's spiritual signature among them, visiting friends. Well, no, not just a friend. His son had taken up with a dark-haired woman about the same age, and he could just feel the intense magnetism they had for each other. There was a strong physical attraction between them, and he believed this to be his son's first serious relationship, all his previous ones passive and casual. He had had his share of quick affairs and consuming passions before meeting his mate, so he knew what his son was feeling. Humans, with their high fertility rate and the constant threat that one's spouse may be cheating, frowned very much upon sexual promiscuity. Ylfen, however, with a very low fertility rate and the unbreakable, binding power of soulmates and spiritual joining, blithely engaged in physical love with many different partners before meeting their soulmate. Once the eyes meet and the souls are joined, there is no desire for another, no concept of adultery or divorce.

Yesterday, while searching for his son, he had reached out with his mind and scanned the area of Aerie they were in. He had found him, but his son's energy had immediately spiked, rocketing upward, synchronized with another person's energy that he hadn't known for very long. He had caught his son and the dark beauty in some sexual act, and had quickly pulled back, hoping his son hadn't noticed he was being sought after. Neither of them had said anything about it, his son perhaps because he hadn't noticed, and himself because it really wasn't his business.

He stood and began walking along the edge, his thoughts continuing. He wanted to protect his son from harm, yet at the same time did not want to shelter him. Protecting was just that: protecting. Sheltering was protecting to the extent that the sheltered one becomes dependent on that protection, unable to defend themselves. He had never been sheltered, sometimes cruelly exposed to the elements and brutally ravaged before cover could be found. He did not want that for his son, but he also wanted him to grow up to be a man, to be able to fight for himself and for those he loves. His son had grown up happy, and he wanted to see him continue to be that way. His son had never faced any life-changing trauma as of yet, but he knew that he must eventually. He prayed that his son would be strong enough to weather the storm and come out all the tougher for it.

He had given his son the short swords that he had once used as weapons, himself now wielding the ancient sword that had been in the family for centuries. He had told his son everything he knew about this sword, making him swear that he will one day wield it with the dignity, respect, and grace that the sword merited. When it was his time to die, his son would become the family head, and the sword had become a symbol of that position over the years, like a crown was for a monarch.

Life and death…that subject had always fascinated him, sometimes troubled him. He suspected that his father's unique position caused the interest, but it had continued since his father's death. He had seen several people die, but only one person born. His son had come into the world before his very eyes, and he would remember that day more clearly than any other.

Many times, his thoughts traveled back to the night his son had been conceived. Ylfe females, as far as he knew, did not have menstrual cycles like human females. At the same time, they had ovaries, which one must assume stored their life's supply of eggs. Perhaps ylfe women were like cats, only ovulating after the act of mating. Or, perhaps not…logic then said that many more babies would be born than actually are. He had spent a long time thinking on this, and could only come up with one solution.

His son had been conceived during a time of emotional upheaval for him and his mate. His mate had been grieving over a friend's death, and her distress had caused him pain. Their emotions had gone out of control as they had coupled that night, and he had felt the spark that heralded the beginning of a new soul at the very moment their passions, both mental and physical, had peaked. It was as if the strength of their feelings had been the cause of their son's conception. He believed it was. Perhaps the conception of ylfe children is not through the physical union of male and female sex cells, as it was in most living creatures. Maybe it was the blending of their emotions, the extension of their souls, that created new life. Ylfe spiritual dynamics were fundamentally different than with most races and peoples, and it was entirely possible that, when emotions are high enough during copulation, they coalesce inside their bodies and manifest physically, combining when the male ejaculates. The female's body would then nurture and shelter the growing life until it was time to be born, the same as all other placental animals.

That explanation had then, of course, brought up new questions. Why does the male's body produce semen even when the emotional requirements are not present? His best guess for _that_ was that it only became virile when the requirements had been met, or that the physical substance played no role in conception anymore, merely being an evolutionary redundancy, left over from when ylfen were not unlike other races.

Even if what he had figured was true, it didn't explain how he had been born to an ylfe father and a human mother. Human females had a very high fertility rate, but then it didn't stand to reason that an ylfe male would even be able to impregnate a human woman, the methods of conception totally different and completely incompatible. However, fate had willed his birth, and fate was powerful enough to break through even the most impossible barriers. It was the only thing he could think of.

His thoughts returned to his son. They were very different in some ways and very similar in others. He knew his son was a blend of himself and his mate, and he believed that the boy exhibited their best qualities. He had his flaws, yes, but no one could be perfect. He loved his son dearly, flaws and all, and he would not trade him for the Many Worlds.

His son was approaching, drifting across the canyon on the wind. The primary emotion he felt emanating from the younger man was blissful contentment. Though pure love could only be felt between soulmates, he was very much aware that love could easily exist between two unjoined ylfen. He had loved a fair amount of his partners, and he still thought on them fondly from time to time. He had no doubt that his son was tasting for the first time the bonds of deep affection. They had no comparison to what soulmates felt for each other, but it was enough to satisfy those who had not yet laid eyes on their destined companion.

His son landed beside him, greeting him with the careless air of one in the gentle grip of happiness. Without waiting for a reply, his son began chatting gaily, recounting the events of the past several hours. He was speaking quickly, without much thought or direction.

He smiled softly as he listened to his son chatter, not interrupting or stopping him. He remembering being young and in love for the first time, and he would be damned if he spoiled it for his only son.

* * *

She was his focus, his drive in life.

If they had not met, he was sure he would have gone wild. His passions and drives would have gone out of control and possibly consumed him. With no real focus in life, he would have spread out so thin that he wouldn't be able to keep a hold of himself. Perhaps thither lay the paths to madness

However, she gave him something to anchor to. He could live his life for her, as well as for their son, so much of his energy was occupied with them. Loving and caring for them gave him a purpose, a reason to do what he does. He suspected that Cloud's unquenchable wanderlust was partly due to the fact that he really had nobody to live for but himself. He had no focus or goal, so escapism had been his only option. Eventually, he had needed an escape from escapism, but no such retreat was available. The blond warrior's life must have been hard indeed, yet he had managed well, considering.

People were not meant to be alone, especially not those whose real love is predestined from birth. One never realizes how truly lonely they are until they meet their soulmate, but if a soulmate is never met, their spirit soon wastes, starved for love and affection. Cloud had lived a long time, but what kind of life had he lived? His heart ached for his cousin's suffering.

He was eternally grateful to fate that he had been destined for the woman he now gazed at fondly. She was writing in a small book, recording her feelings and experiences of the day. She did not make an entry every single day, but she wrote in it frequently enough. It was actually one of several small books that looked the same. Each one had a number inside the front cover, denoting what its place in the series was. He probably would have no patience for a journal, but he knew it was something she enjoyed doing.

Moving closer to her, he leaned toward her and slipped his arms around her waist from behind. Pressing his face against her neck, he inhaled slowly, savoring her sweet scent. A smile spread across his face at her startled gasp, followed by a kittenish purr. He could spend hours like this, content to just be near her.

He laid his head on her shoulder as she resumed her writing, sighing through his nose. He loved her, he loved living with her, and he loved interacting with her. They teased and flirted, supported and criticized, indulged and nurtured, comforted and worried. Their relationship was a swirl of emotions, both good and bad, and he cherished it more than any other. Thoughts of losing her chilled him to the bone, and every day he was afraid that it would be their last. He tried not to let it hinder their happiness together, but one of them must die first, and he didn't know who it would be.

He had thought he knew what it was like to lose a soulmate, having experienced his father's memories of losing Wenna, but the more he thought about losing his own mate, the more fear and dread he felt about it. His father's memories had become like his own, but there was no way to convey the full force of the grief and anguish one feels when losing half their soul, even through memories and thoughts. The thought of feeling it himself terrified him, but he wished not that his mate would be the one left behind.

Squeezing her waist softly, he wondered if they would live to see their grandchildren. Many ylfen did not; his father hadn't, and he got the feeling that his father's parents hadn't lived to see his half-siblings. They certainly hadn't been alive when he himself had been born, but that was of little matter. Many ylfen only saw their children, not their grandchildren, which he thought very unfair in a race that lived for so long. Ylfen reproduce so slowly that most of them die before their children have children of their own. Ylfen lived an incredibly long time, but no one may live forever.

He didn't want to lose her, but he also didn't want her to lose him. One of them must suffer greatly, and he dreaded that moment terribly.

A sudden urge to cry came over him, and he squeezed her tightly, hiding his face in her hair, trying to restrain the tears that stung his eyes and blurred his vision. His mate's gentle voice came to him, and he felt her consciousness prodding his gently, asking permission to help him. She could not heal mental illnesses or close emotional wounds, but she could comfort a person, soothe away their worries and fears, albeit temporarily. He nodded against her shoulder, and sighed shakily as a cool, consoling sensation filled him.

He was unaware how long they stayed like that. Indeed, he wasn't exactly sure what was going on, for when he "woke up" when she was finished, he found himself lying down on the loveseat they were in, his head on her lap, her kind and loving face hovering over him. He was willing to both die and kill for her, and her eyes told him that she felt just the same.

Pushing his fears aside, he leaned up and kissed her, pressing their lips chastely together. Worrying about tomorrow never did anything for him, except perhaps cause anxiety and sometimes headaches. If one was destined to be left behind for a while before they join their mate in death, then it stood to reason that they must enjoy every minute they had together before that happened.

She responded to his kiss, pressing back softly. His emotions welled up at the same time he touched hers, and the sudden mixture was so sweet, the tears he had been holding back slipped free. Oh, how he loved her so much…

* * *

She was the center of his fondest childhood memories.

He dearly loved his father, but his mother had a special place in his heart. Her training had been closer, more personal, and he knew a closer bond had grown between them than between him and his father.

His mother had been the softness where his father had been the hardness. During those ten years, he had taken to the magic his mother sought to unlock for him much easier than anything else, and he had felt most satisfied and confident after being with her. He didn't know if he wanted to be a healer, but he knew that he would seek to develop his magical skills further, while his physical skills had pretty much reached their limit. Perhaps he would experiment with different types of magic before he settled on a kind he wanted to master.

Though she was sometimes _too_ soft on him, she encouraged him to seek his own path, to use her instruction as only a guide, not a rule. A bird does its best when allowed to fly free, she had said, and she would lay no bonds on him purposely, and would try to lift any she placed on him accidentally.

Magic came easily to him, but it still thrilled him to feel it flowing through him. It could feel like so many different things. Healing magic felt cool and smooth, coalescing in his fingertips and flowing outward with a delicate tingle. Defensive magic felt warm and all-encompassing, radiating from his center, like his entire being was slowly consumed by the spell. Attack magic felt hot and invigorating, concentrating not just in his hands but also well up his arms, bursting forth with pulse-pounding furor.

There was one type of magic that his mother refused to touch, and he had in fact learned about it from his father. The older man had warned—almost threatened—that he should never use such skills unless his life were in desperate danger. The magic had been a form of attack magic, yet it targeted the mind, the closest to psychic powers that magic could ever come. Mental states such as confusion, fear, uncontrollable anger, and temporary madness could be inflicted, as well as all-out psychological warfare. Such spells felt ice-cold, creeping through every fiber in his body until he had felt like he was going to freeze, shivering visibly. He loathed the feel of it, and swore never to use it. His father had nodded slowly, a look of pity in his eyes for the discomfort he was feeling.

His mother had gotten angry that his father had dared to show him such things. It was the first and only time he had seen his parents fight, and to see soulmates in a clash like that had made his chest tighten, and he had quickly left the room. His mother had been positively incensed that her son had been exposed to such evil, horrible things, and his father had been adamant that it was better for him to have experienced it and chosen not to learn more, than if he had never had the opportunity to choose for himself. It had hurt terribly to hear his parents fight like that because of him, and he was extremely thankful that their love for each other prevented it from coming to blows. Even if they became as angry as they possibly could, his mother and father would never strike one another.

He yawned and stretched where he sat at his desk. He was in his bedroom, which had once been his father's, and it was getting late. He had been reading a book his mother had returned home one day with and given to him. He liked it, but no matter how much he liked what he was reading, he would always have a hard time keeping his eyes open if he was sleepy. More than once already, he had almost fallen asleep on the open page.

Putting a marker in the book and setting it down, he stood, changed for bed, and climbed in between the sheets. Willing the lamps along the walls to dim, he settled in, lying on his back and staring at the white ceiling through the darkness. His mother had told him about when she first met his father. It had been in this bed that their eyes had first met, in this bed that their souls had joined, and in this bed that they had first made love. His mother had had a dreamy, far-off expression in her eyes as she had told him of their first meeting. Her voice had dropped to a sigh, and a giddy, girlish trill had crept in. He could tell that she was remembering that day, what it was like to gaze into his deep green eyes for the first time, to finally find her true happiness. Watching and listening to her had made him want to find his destined mate right away, but his meeting with her was left entirely up to fate and chance, of course.

His mother told him many stories, some true and some imagined, and his favorite activity as a small child had been curling up on her lap and listening to her soft, gentle voice speak of whatever he had wanted to hear about at that particular time. Now, he was about the same size as his father, so curling up on her lap like he had as a boy was now quite out of the question. Despite size, however, he still liked to spend time with her every once in a while and hear what she has to say. Even if she was just chatting and not telling a story at all, it was relaxing to hear her talk. His relationship with his mother was close-knit, and she understood him more than perhaps anyone else did. He suspected that only his soulmate would come closer to him.

Yawning again, his thoughts drifted over to Nyenori, the dark-haired woman he was currently involved with. His mother had been the first to discover that they were together, and she had smiled brightly at the thought of her son in his first serious relationship. She wanted him to be happy, and she could tell that he adored Nyenori. She and the girl had instantly liked each other, and his mother had given them her full blessing. Since then, their relationship had deepened, and he almost felt sorry that he would eventually find someone he loved even more than her. He supposed most ylfen felt this way at one time or another, but still…

He recalled his mother's words to him, that true love cannot be broken or overcome, but it was perfectly all right and even expected that he follow lesser feelings of love until that fateful day arrived. Ylfen, to many races from the Many Worlds, he had heard, where very promiscuous and hedonistic creatures, but he was glad of it. What is life if you cannot seek to get pleasure and enjoyment out of it? Sex was by far _not_ their only definition of a good time, and he resented the fact that most Many World societies would look upon their habits with disgust. His parents, however, had taught him not to judge people before meeting them, so he tried not to dislike the Many Worlds natives. He supposed ylfen had as many stereotypes about them as they had about ylfen, or at least the ones who believed ylfen to be real.

Tomorrow, he and his mother would go out into the Stretch to search for wildlife. He had discovered that he held a great interest in animals, and she had agreed to acquaint him with the local animal population as far as she was familiar with it. He was looking forward to tomorrow, and as his eyes slipped shut for the night, he made a mental note to ask her about the wildlife around Melyrn, her native city in the trees. With that thought lingering in the back of his mind, his consciousness retreated, and his body settled into sleep.

* * *

He was her baby, her little boy.

Her son, next to her soulmate, was the most important thing to her in the world. She wanted to protect him from the dangers in the world, but he was a young man now. He would resent being shielded like a defenseless child. Still, her maternal instincts never fully turned off.

While he had been growing inside of her, she had felt the mother-child link always growing in the back of her mind, getting stronger every day. Her mate had a bond with the unborn child as well, tentatively touching minds with it, but this was something different. It was as if their minds had been in contact since the moment of his conception, and she cherished that special link. She supposed all ylfe mothers have this connection with their children.

Her son had been a wonderful student, eager to learn and quick to catch onto things. She often worried over the bumps and bruises he often came home with after a day training with his father, but her mate had once literally blocked her from going to him, not letting her pass until she had agreed not to heal all his hurts away. He had said that he did not want the boy to grow up depending on his mother to succor him whenever he was hurt or in some way uncomfortable. It was hard to see her son in pain, and she often asked him if he wanted her help, but the boy had the same attitude as his father, more often opting out than accepting. Sometimes, that made her unhappy, but she had learned to accept it. Her desire to stop pain was not lessened any, but she did see her mate's point.

From the first day of training, her son had eagerly latched onto magic, taking to it much quicker than other training aspects. She hoped he would pick a type of magic to specialize in. If it had been left up to her, she would have chosen defensive or healing magic, since she hated the idea of hurting others, but she wouldn't be able to stop him if he chose attack magic instead. However, she would absolutely not stand her son choosing that thoroughly _evil_ kind of psychological magic that his father had had the gall to show to him, and was glad that the boy had sworn not to touch it. If there was one thing she hated about her soulmate, it was his ability to twist and contort the mind's conception of reality, and she suspected it was a skill left over from his time spent as a thrall of darkness, brief but nearly fatal to his free will and self-awareness. She had seen that her son had been badly frightened by the experience, and that was the only time she had lashed out against her soulmate, fiercely reproaching him for doing such a thing. He had retaliated with the same ferocity, and they had fought bitterly. Though they both forgave each other for it, neither said so out loud. Both were ashamed of their conduct toward each other.

She checked herself, taking a few deep breaths through her nose, calming herself. Even the memory was enough to make her heart speed up.

Her thoughts returned to her son, and she felt her anxiety slipping away. No more than a week after he had been born, and only a day or so after she had stopped feeling weak and drained from the birth, she had walked into the front living room to find her mate in a chair, their son snuggled up in his lap, the tiny body lying upright against his abdomen. Both were asleep, and she had wondered about what they had been doing when they had nodded off. She hadn't the heart to disturb them, however, so had left them to wake up on their own. It was without a doubt the most adorable sight she had ever seen, and she knew that the image would stay with her forever.

The boy had grown up so quickly, both physically and mentally, and it didn't seem long at all before he was taller than her and beginning to get the same firm, toned build as his father. His hair was the same color as hers, but a little straighter, and he had grown it long like both of his parents. Most of the time, he had it tied back in a loose ponytail, but he sometimes let it fly loose, wild and fiery red.

Brushing her own hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ears, she concentrated on the stitches she was sewing. She had caught the skirt of this dress in the doorway of her and her mate's closet, and it had torn. It wasn't a favorite dress, but it was worth saving. It did go well with her eyes, she thought.

Her son was across the room from her, idly playing with little sparks of light he kept flicking from his fingertips. She could tell he was bored, and he often engaged in small, useless magic tricks to practice his control when he could find nothing else to do. The light he was playing with moved not unlike sparks from a wood fire, but they also obeyed his silent commands whenever he issued them. He made them follow his fingers, twirling them in a circle and then any which way, and he sometimes sent them streaking away from him and then back, a few even zipping around her, all the way across the room.

A particularly large spark suddenly imposed itself between her and her needle, making her pause. It just hovered there, seeming to stare at her. It was like a tiny fairy was in front of her, wreathed in its own light. Looking up, her eyes met her son's, and he was grinning cheekily at her. She gave him a mock scowl and shooed the spark away. It rejoined the others as they flocked around his fingers. She didn't look back to her sewing, instead continuing to watch him, for he suddenly made all the sparks combine into a ball of light, its edges so defined that it almost looked solid. To her wonder, he actually took a hold of the light and began to mold it like clay, manipulating it with his fingers as if it were indeed a tangible object. He experimented with it for a few minutes, mostly kneading and stretching it, but then let it dissipate completely, the light spreading out until it disappeared into the light of the room.

She smiled softly as she looked back to her needle and resumed her mending. Perhaps he wouldn't specialize in attack, defense, or healing magic at all, but light. Light was the most beautiful of natural phenomena, for without light, sight would be impossible, let alone the unlimited number of colors. It would be a noble thing indeed if he chose to both master and serve such a wonderful part of nature.

**To be continued…**

**Author's Notes:** Phew…took a few days for me to write all this. It's been hotter than Hades lately, and my brain had practically melted, so I only got a little bit done each time I worked on this. Today was the first cool day in a while, so I decided to take advantage of the reprieve and finish this chapter. Despite the difficulties, it was fun to write this. Some parts were a little difficult, as I had never really thought about one of the characters from one of the other characters' point of view before, but I think I managed it rather well. Some parts took on lives of their own, like the miniature sex-ed lesson in one of the scenes, but that's what I like about writing. You can plan something as much as you want, but it's almost stupid to expect that nothing new will come up and be written before you realize what direction your thoughts have taken. Sometimes, it's like my fingers are typing without really consulting my brain about _what_ they're typing. I've actually surprised myself when editing my fics, coming across parts that I remember writing but unable to figure out how my mind came up with the ideas. I think my Muse lives as much in my fingertips as she does in my mind.

Anyway, I like this chapter, so I hope you do, too. Let me know in a review or an email, onegai shimasu! I just got the _Trigun_ DVD boxed set that I recently ordered from TRSI, so you can guess what I'll be busy with this weekend…


	21. Sealing Fate

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer.

**Separate Destinies**  
By Annie-chan  
Chapter Twenty-One: Sealing Fate

"Careful, Son."

"I know, I know."

Riku sat on a large, flat boulder that projected out over a riverbank. The river was shallow and slow moving, and Tanis had asked to be taught how to spear and net fish. Though it wasn't guaranteed, these two methods could be faster than using a fishing pole, and were handy to know if in a position where you had to catch or gather your food.

He was watching his son, who was thigh-deep in the cool water, a net in one hand and a pike in the other.

"Careful of the rocks," Riku told Tanis again. "They could be slippery or sharp. No sense getting hurt out there."

Tanis nodded, his eyes fixed on the water in front of him. A good-sized fish had swum near, unaware of his presence. Tanis was standing perfectly still, only his hair and feathers moving in the breeze. His feet were planted in the silt on the bottom of the river, and he could see the scattered rocks as darker patches against the grayish bottom.

The fish was about knee-level, and it moved about lazily, searching for water bugs to eat. It's large tail and fins swayed gracefully in the slow currant, its mouth opening and closing as it sucked in the water and forced it out again through its gills.

Tanis wasn't even breathing. While the rest of him stayed stone still, his left arm raised above his head, inch by inch, bringing the pike into position.

_Just a little closer_, he thought to the fish. _Come on…_

The pike came downward and stabbed through the water, almost faster than it took for the thought to pass through his head. Satisfaction made him grin as the sharp tip passed straight through the fish and struck the riverbed, but the sudden movement had caused the silt under his feet to shift. He found himself off balance.

"Gyah!" he managed to yelp before he toppled completely. He hit the water with a splash and sunk, the cool liquid surrounding him. Water rushed into his open mouth, and he choked.

Riku saw his son go under and was immediately on his feet. It was a shallow, slow moving river, and there was little chance of a drowning, but he still felt alarm speed up his pulse and breath. Jumping from the boulder into the water, he waded toward the spot where Tanis had fallen.

Just as he got there, Tanis broke the surface, gasping and coughing, but had not yet regained his feet. Riku grabbed him by the ribs and hauled him up, allowing him to get his balance again. He was still clutching the pike in his left hand, though the net was now on the riverbed.

"I told you to be careful, Tanis," Riku admonished, but it was halfhearted. He could see that the shifting silt could trip up anyone.

"Yeah, I know," Tanis grinned, brushing his dripping bangs out of his eyes. "I got it, though, didn't I?"

* * *

"Ah," Tanis sighed, lying on his back in the grass, "what a beautiful night."

"Mmhm," Riku nodded slowly, gazing up at the moons. Six were visible tonight in differing stages of fullness. Usually, there weren't this many moons in the sky all at once like this. "I'd like it better if there were stars in the sky, though." That was what Riku missed most about nights in the Destiny Islands. He had always loved gazing up at the stars, imagining other worlds somewhere out there. Little had he known that every star in the sky was some other world, most with people living on them, perhaps also wondering about what may lie out in the blackness of space. He visited the Many Worlds every so often, and living on the One World just made the stars all the more beautiful.

"Father?" Tanis asked, "are you all right?" He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over the glowing embers of the fire at his father, who was standing on the other side. The four fish they had caught that afternoon had been cooked and eaten, and they were now letting the food digest, relaxing. They would return to Aerie tomorrow morning, and his mother would be waiting for them.

"I'm just remembering home," Riku answered softly.

Tanis watched his father, pity stealing through him. Even after living on the One World for years without count, he still called the Many Worlds, namely the Destiny Islands, "home". He knew that his father was content here with his mother and him, living his life as any other ylfe in the city, but he also knew that it had to have hurt tremendously to leave his childhood home for a completely unknown world, and hardly return except in relatively brief visits.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the cool night air against his skin. Just as he did so, however, he heard a gasp, which sounded strangely like a suppressed sob, and then the sound of someone falling to the ground. His eyes snapped open, and he reflexively looked over again.

"Father…?!"

* * *

The moons suddenly whirled and fuzzed out, a sickeningly dizzy sensation crashing down over him. Riku managed to choke out a gasp before he lost balance completely. He tried to right himself, but only succeeded in pitching forward, and he saw the smoldering embers rushing up at him…

No impact. No burning. In fact, there was nothing around him at all.

_Now what?_ he asked himself, looking around. _Is this past, present, or future that I'm about to see?_ Turning around almost all the way, his gaze suddenly alighted on a familiar face looking back into his.

"Leiya!" he said in surprise, but it was not an unpleasant surprise. He went to her, meaning to touch her. The back of his mind knew very well that people in these visions of his were not the real people, but merely projections of their likenesses. However, as it was happening, he almost never remembered that. "Leiya, what are you doing here?"

As he reached out to touch her arm, she vanished.

"Eh?" Riku blinked, confused. Looking to the side, he saw her again, looking right at him. She again vanished when he tried to touch her, reappearing in another location…

…and again…

…and again…

…and AGAIN…

_Is she avoiding me…?_ Riku wondered, feeling a stab of sadness pierce his heart. _Why is she avoiding me? Is something wrong? Why won't she let me comfort her?_

He looked around and found her directly behind him. Turning to face her again, he received a sudden jolt to see tears flowing in a steady stream down her face. Her eyes were pleading for help. She needed him.

"Leiya, please…!" Desperate, he launched himself at her, meaning to seize her before she could disappear yet again. Indeed, she did not disappear, but a burst of orange-yellow light and sudden heat made him fall back, instinctively closing and shielding his eyes.

When he looked at her again, his jaw dropped.

Her clothes were on fire. The white fabric of her dress was turning black and smoking, the flames following the scorch marks until all was ablaze, and she, too, began to burn.

"No…" Riku murmured. "No…no, please!" he couldn't move, couldn't help her. His feet were rooted to the spot, and the rest of him refused to respond to his desperate pleas to save her, to put the fire out.

Her soft brown eyes continued to weep, continued to gaze pleadingly at him, until they were also consumed in the merciless flames. She made no sound at all, but when she was entirely engulfed, she knelt and calmly laid herself down, lying on her back, as if ready to go to sleep. The fires expanded and grew larger, taller. An icy feeling of dread lanced through Riku when he realized that he was looking at a funeral pyre.

"No!" he cried again, but it was now a wail of helpless grief. "No, no, no! This cannot be!" He was sobbing bitterly now, and he dropped to his knees, horror and despair tearing at him. "She can't die! Not now! Not yet!"

A sudden sensation of overwhelming power came over him, drawing his gaze to his left. Through his tears, he saw a sight that he would never forget, though he hadn't seen it in a very long time. It was a Keyhole, utterly black in the middle, the golden edges sparkling with the power that poured from it. It was growing rapidly, getting closer and closer.

_Kingdom Hearts?_ Riku thought, his tears slowing. _No, this is different…_

He passed inside, and he felt as if he were melting, the enormous power in the world heart behind the Keyhole permeating every fiber of his being, moving through him until he could think of nothing else. He screamed.

Total blackness came over him, and everything ceased.

* * *

Tanis sat next to his father, his arms wrapped around his knees, which he had drawn up to his chest. Riku was on his back on the ground, seemingly in a deep sleep. Tanis knew, however, that this was not so.

His father had suddenly toppled directly into the remains of the fire, clouds of sparks and small flames leaping up as the embers were disturbed. Faster than he could think, Tanis had leaped up and pulled Riku from the fire, checking everywhere for burns. Luckily, Tanis had pulled him out quickly enough, so Riku suffered little more than reddened skin.

Tanis was worried. He was always worried when he saw his father go unconscious like this. Often, though not always, Riku had emerged from the sudden trance confused or perhaps frightened, usually unable to speak for a few moments. Tanis' natural curiosity made him wonder what his father saw in those trances, but his logical side said that he definitely did not want to experience it for himself. The psychic "gift" often made Riku suffer undue stress.

"Nn…" Riku groaned weakly.

"Father?" Tanis asked, moving so he was now kneeling beside Riku. The older man did not respond, but began to move, his head turning slightly to one side and then the other. His fingers were now loosely clenched, and he had a faint look of discomfort on his face. He made a sound that seemed like a cry lodged deep in the back of his throat, and Tanis saw him begin to tremble. "Father…?" he asked again, touching Riku's cheek lightly with his fingertips.

Riku's chest suddenly heaved upward as he sucked in a deep breath, but his trembling made the inhalation shaky, and he sounded as if he were crying. His eyelids cracked open, but before recognition came into his eyes, he reached up and took hold of his son's hand, which was hovering near the side of his face.

"T-Tanis…?" he gasped, blinking. He was trying to clear his fuzzy eyesight, left over from the unconsciousness.

Tanis was not happy. Riku looked horrible. He was very pale, a cold sweat had broken out on his skin, and looking into his eyes told the redhead that he was absolutely terrified. He was far too weak to act on that fear, however. He could barely speak.

"Don't speak," Tanis warned Riku, searching through the pack they had brought with them from home for something he could dry his father's face with. "You're all right, Father. Everything's going to be okay."

"N-no…" Riku managed to rasp. "D-danger…s-soon…death…!"

Tanis unstopped a drinking flask he had near him, propped his father up with his arm, and made him drink. Hopefully, the cool water would help him speak better. When his father was like this, trying to speak mentally with him was just looking into a jumble of thoughts and emotions. It was easier to get things out of him verbally.

"What are you saying?" Tanis asked when Riku had finished. "Who's in danger?"

"Leiya," Riku replied, less raspy but still having trouble. "Y-your mother."

"Mother…?!" Tanis repeated slowly. "You mean—"

Riku suddenly pushed himself up, denying his present weakness and forcing himself to his feet.

"Father!" Tanis cried, afraid that Riku may overtax himself. He jumped up and moved to steady his father.

"I-I c-can feel it…!" Riku moaned. "She's hurting!"

"Wait," Tanis said firmly, holding his father back. "You'll kill yourself if you're not more careful!"

"Let me go!" Riku hissed, struggling feebly. "I have to go to her!"

Tanis sighed in exasperation, but resisted no longer. Looking at the dying fire, he said a single word: "Out". The fire immediately went out, and he kicked dirt over it to quell the smoking. Gathering up their stuff and shoving it back into the pack, he slung the pack over his shoulder, then went back to his father, who had slid down to his knees. Putting his arms around Riku, he launched them both up into the sky and took off as fast as possible toward Aerie. He was noticeably slower than normal, as he was not used to carrying someone the same size as him.

_Damn it_, Tanis thought, frustration seeping into his thoughts. _If only I knew how to teleport!_

Finally, the canyon city came into view, and he began feeling what his father was feeling. It was not nearly as strong a link as Riku had with Leiya, but he could sense his mother's emotions. She was terribly distraught, and Tanis began to worry that his father's detached chatter had been right.

"Open the gate!" he roared to the gatekeepers, and the invisible doors had just barely swung open enough to allow them to pass before they came zipping through. Tanis sped toward their home, holding his father as tightly as possible. In only a few seconds, though it felt like hours, his feet touched the white limestone of the balcony.

"L-Leiya…" Riku breathed, pushing away from his son and stumbling toward the door. "Leiya!"

Tanis swore as his father suddenly bolted through the door. If he didn't be careful, he really _would_ kill himself! His father, though, now seemed to have little difficulty going too fast for him, and if Tanis hadn't already known that Riku would immediately seek out Leiya, he would have lost him within seconds, and would have had to search for him.

As guessed, Riku made a beeline for the master bedroom. He burst through the double doors, went through the parlor in just two bounds, and almost knocked the second set of double doors off its hinges.

"Leiya!" Riku cried when he finally found his mate. She was on the bed, curled in on herself, weeping bitterly about something. A sight like that must have pierced Riku to the bone, for he leaped upon the bed and gathered Leiya to him, cradling her gently to his chest, tears of his own beginning to flow from his eyes.

Tanis sighed, some of his apprehension melting away. His mother was not injured physically, instead wounded emotionally somehow. There was no immediate danger of death. Perhaps his father had overreacted to what he had seen, whatever it was.

He left, quietly closing the doors and retreating to his own bedroom. His parents needed time together, and he needed his sleep.

* * *

"Leiya," Riku whispered, his initial surge of emotion dying down to manageable levels. He flicked the tears from his face. His mate clung to him, sobbing quietly against his chest, shaking like a dry leaf in a cold autumn wind. He had never seen her this upset before. "Leiya," he whispered again, gently stroking his fingers through her hair. "Talk to me, Love. Please, what happened?"

"A-another one…" she gasped, her voice muffled. "I l-lost another one!"

Riku felt dread wash over him. Recently, an unusual number of accidents and animal attacks had left many severely wounded, and Leiya had had several die while she was attempting to heal them, too far gone for any amount of magic to help them. Deep down, Leiya knew this, but life was so very precious to her, and any loss of it hit her hard. She held herself responsible for their deaths, as she had been trying to save them, and she felt terribly guilty that she had been unable to. Most of the dead ones left soulmates behind, and those unlucky men and women were plunged into emotional chaos and madness. Some wasted slowly away until they also died, while others were unable to wait for that. They slew themselves, some burning themselves on their mates' funeral pyres, others ending their lives later with violent, often painful methods.

"Do you…do you want to talk about it?" Riku ventured after a long silence.

Leiya shook her head, clutching at him even tighter.

"All right," Riku nodded. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

A few days later, Tanis would hear of a young man, barely an adult, being gored on the long, sharp horn of a nyun, a large, ox-like creature. Something had spooked it in the twilight, and the young shepherd had been unable to get out of the way before its left horn had pierced him just below the sternum, going all the way through his still boyishly thin body. Those who had seen him die said that the healer who had tried to save him had given her all to help him, but to no avail. All who knew him mourned deeply, for he was a kind, gentle intellectual who spent much of the time he wasn't with the herd either in the library or out in the Stretch, exploring the woods and the fields. He would be missed.

Now, however, that same healer was crying into her mate's embrace, the thought that she had let yet another one die clawing at her, as if trying to rip her apart, starting with her heart.

"Leiya," Riku purred softly, trying to comfort her. "Leiya, you can't save everyone."

"I should!" she cried. "I just c-can't!"

"Leiya," he sighed. "We all have a time to be born, a time to live, and a time to die. No one may live forever. When a person's time to die comes, nothing will be able to save them, not even the most skilled of mages."

"I-I just can't stand it…!" she moaned. "I can't stand feeling someone die! I can't stand to feel their soul slip through my fingers like sand, speeding away no matter how desperately I try to hold onto it, no matter how much I cling to it. I-it hurts to feel that! It hurts so much!"

"I am so sorry, my love," he murmured, sincerely meaning it. Tears were no longer falling from his eyes, but her suffering was his suffering. He could never be truly happy as long as she was unhappy. She had stopped talking, and Riku merely held her, holding her gently against him as she continued to weep, mourning the loss of another life. The longer they sat there, however, the longer a small tickle in the back of his mind bothered him. Finally, he could not help but say it.

"Leiya," he said again, "that's not the whole reason you are so upset, is it?"

She looked quickly up at him, eyes wide. She looked almost like a little girl caught in a lie. After a moment, she lowered her head again and nodded slowly.

"What is it, then?" he asked. "Please, tell me. I want to help you."

"I…" she began, her voice trembling, "I tried so hard to save him. I really did! I couldn't stand the thought of another one dying on me, so I tried harder than I've ever tried before. His soul…he was ready to die. He was in so much pain, that he wanted to die, to escape his suffering. He fought me tooth and nail the entire time. He so obviously wanted me to let him go, but I wouldn't listen! I-I just kept pulling and pulling at him, unable to let go. It went on for so long…I lost my grip at the end, and I felt his spirit scream for _joy_ that it was finally free." She paused, her trembling getting worse. "I only prolonged his death! I made him hurt so much more than he should have! I couldn't leave him to his fate, and it was only my own wounded pride that kept me from letting him go!" She dissolved into tears again, her thin shoulders heaving with her sobs.

Riku was silent. Leiya had not only failed to save another life, but had drawn out the death, causing the pain the young man had gone through to eat away at him more than it would have if no healer had touched him. She had trapped him in his own dying body, his own living hell.

"Leiya, my love, my darling," he soothed, kissing her forehead. "It's over. He is beyond all pain and fear now. He forgives you, I am sure."

"B-but…" she stammered.

"No," he said firmly, laying a finger over her lips. "I don't want to hear you blame yourself anymore."

"Riku…"

"Shhhhh…"

He gently laid her down, kissing her eyes as he did so, making her close them. He licked the salty tears from her face and neck, and though he did not magically induce sleep, he did feel her relax against him, responding to his soft, loving touches. Within a few minutes, she was dozing lightly.

As he watched her, Riku felt an unwanted emotion, shoved mercilessly to the very back of his mind, speak up again. He had seen her pyre burn in that horrifyingly real vision he had experienced less than an hour ago. Did it really mean she would die soon? Or, was it signaling the death of her last innocence, the belief that trying to save someone's life was the pure form of selflessness, of concern for others?

_Don't die, Leiya!_ he silently pleaded, his blood running icy-cold at the mere thought of her death. _It's too soon! Too soon to say goodbye!_

* * *

"Lei…"

Riku groaned in his sleep, turning from his side to his back. In the dim light of the lamps along the walls, nearly out completely, his face was troubled. He was dreaming, but what the dream was about, his face would not tell. He looked almost frightened.

For the past several days, Leiya had been detached, distant. She hardly spoke, and when she did, it was a soft, hollow whisper. Riku was with her every minute, afraid to leave her alone. In the vision, her eyes had been pleading him for help. He could never in a million years even think about abandoning her at a time like this. She needed him. He needed her, as well, for he was terrified that any moment together would be their last, so he didn't let her out of his sight. She did not ask, but he was sure that she felt his fear and grief through their mental bond. He was more troubled that she did not ask than if she had asked. She seemed not to care at all. That troubled him more than anything else.

He couldn't bring himself to tell her—or Tanis, though he asked—about the vision he had had, for every time he even thought about bringing it up, his blood ran cold, his hands shook, and he felt dizzy.

Riku awoke suddenly with a gasp, jerking awake as if startled by a loud noise. He lay there for several minutes, staring up at the blank stone ceiling, catching his breath.

"Leiya…" he whispered, reaching to his side. Even if she did not wake up, he needed her near. However, his hand touched nothing but the mattress…

She was gone.

Riku bolted upright, his heart suddenly pounding full-force. He stared wildly at the empty spot where she was accustomed to sleeping, panic clawing up his neck. _Where was she?!_

"Leiya!" he cried aloud, searching for her presence. To his great relief, she wasn't far off, and she was very much alive. Her spirit was subdued, however.

He jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes more suited to outside, and sped out of the house. What was she doing in the middle of the night? Where was she going?

"Leiya!" he called again when she came into sight. "Leiya, what are you doing out here?" This was her favorite spot in the city, a vantage point that allowed one to look out over much of the canyon and the fields beyond. It was absolutely beautiful on a clear day.

"Riku," she responded, the tone in her voice making him stop short. "Riku, I knew you would be here."

"What are you doing out here?" he repeated, unnerved by the flat, lifeless voice.

She was silent. Finally, she turned to face him, and he felt a rush of fear. Her eyes, though not the pleading, desperate eyes he had seen in that vision, were both sad and happy, as if something long-awaited had finally arrived, but something dear must be given up for it.

"Love?" he managed to ask.

"I have grown weary, Riku," she finally answered. "You gave me true happiness, you made me content; you gave me a wonderful son, and you made me feel whole. You and our son were my whole world for so long…but I think it is time to let it all go."

He couldn't bring himself to speak. He merely shook his head.

"I-I've hurt so much these past few months," she began again. "I've begun feeling my age. I feel so tired now, so old. I…I can't live any longer."

"No!" he choked, feeling sick that her death was indeed near.

"I am sorry, my love," she replied, looking away. "It will only be for a little while. We will be together again soon, I promise."

"N-no, Leiya!" he cried. "I can't let you do this!"

"It is my choice, Riku," she said firmly, but was still looking away. "Didn't you say that everyone had a time to die? Now is my time. Nothing can save me."

His tears began to fall as she repeated his own words, telling him that she intended to die, no matter how much he pleaded or begged. He closed the distance between them, wrapping her tightly in his arms and crying into her hair.

"You can help me, Riku," she whispered. "Help me depart."

"W-what?!" he stammered. Help her die? He could never dream of such a thing! But, then…if it would make her happy…

He dueled with himself incessantly for several minutes, unable to do anything but hold her. Finally, however, when he looked into her eyes—her beautiful, loving eyes—he felt his lips stretch slightly in a soft, understanding smile. Yes…yes, he would help her pass on. It would be absolute hell for both of them until they reunited, but they would have the rest of eternity to be together, to love each other. She was suffering, and her suffering caused him to suffer as well. This was for the best.

He touched their foreheads together and reached out with his mind, gently surrounding her soul and giving her one final farewell before beginning to "uproot" the most basic building block of her existence. Slowly, slowly her heart detached itself from her body, growing fainter and fainter until it vanished altogether.

Oh, God, he felt it. The instant she disappeared from the mortal plane, his soul began tearing in half, and he could all but hear the ripping sound echoing in his ears. Every fiber of himself was stretched painfully, the half of his soul that was her pulling away in a slow, agonizing way, going beyond his reach or thought. A broken sob escaped from his throat. He felt utterly cold, and half of his being was blank, empty. He sank to his knees, clutching her lifeless body, suddenly weeping hysterically for what he had just given up, what he had just willingly lost.

_How could you?! HOW COULD YOU?!_ he wailed internally, shivering violently. A deep chasm was in his spirit, previously filled by her warm, beloved presence. He had helped dig that chasm, and an intense feeling of self-loathing stabbed through him. He had killed his own soulmate.

Overwhelmed by the flood of emotion, he collapsed completely, still clinging to her, and everything went black.

* * *

Tanis rubbed his tired eyes, red and warm with the tears he had been crying. This morning, his parents had been found at the canyon's highest point, his father holding tightly to his mother's dead body. It had at first been thought that neither was still alive, but when those who had found them tried to separate the bodies, his father had gripped his mother even tighter, moaning piteously. He would not willingly part from what was left of his mate, and it had taken four men to pry his arms apart.

The two of them had just returned from her funeral pyre. It was late at night, and Tanis was exhausted. His father had immediately disappeared down the long curving hallway to the master bedroom, while the younger man had retreated to his own chamber. Collapsing on the bed without even undressing, he kicked his shoes off and willed the lamps to dim, preparing to sleep.

_It's only a matter of time_, he thought. _Father will be gone soon, as well. I…I hope he doesn't suffer long._ With those melancholy thoughts, he sunk into a deep, undisturbed sleep. He dreamed no dreams.

Several hours later, he was woken suddenly by his door opening. It swung open slowly, and as he pushed himself up, he realized that it was his father.

_Well, of course_, he told himself. _Who else would it be?_

Riku was standing in his doorway. A carefully crafted mask of calm was on his face, and he was dressed in black. The long, ancient sword was strapped to his back, and his right hand grasped the handle of what looked like a wooden box. On closer inspection, Tanis realized that it was the display case for the keychains. Odd. Why would his father want to take that anywhere? It had _always_ been in the same spot, for as long as Tanis could remember.

"Come on, Tanis," Riku said in a strangely toneless voice. "We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Tanis repeated, confused. "Where?"

"I have something I want to show you," Riku replied. "Then, you can come back here, if you want, or go elsewhere. It is your choice, of course."

Tanis sat up and began putting his shoes on. He doubted that his father would wait for him to change clothes. "Can't I eat first?"

"Grab something to take along," Riku said simply. When Tanis had his shoes on, he turned and went toward the outer rooms, not saying a word. He didn't say anything as they passed through the kitchen and Tanis snagged a round, reddish fruit to eat as they traveled.

"Where are we going?" Tanis asked as they exited the house and headed for the city gate. "What are you going to show me?"

"I don't know where we're going yet," Riku replied as they passed through the gate. "I have to find it." He led his son on foot for several hundred yards away from the gate. The sun was rising, and dawn was spilling over the world. He suddenly stopped, set the case down, and sat on the grass. His back was straight, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, his eyes closed. Tanis knew that he was sending his senses outward, searching for something. He sat down beside him and waited patiently, biting into the fruit he had brought.

A long time passed. Riku seemed to have gone dormant, his meditative trance deepening further than Tanis had ever seen it do before. He tossed the fruit core into the grass for insects, and continued to wait. It seemed like several hours before Riku moved again, and by then, Tanis had begun to doze in the warm morning sunshine.

"Tanis," Riku said, standing up. He stretched his stiff joints, feeling the bones pop. When his son stood up beside him, he picked up the case again, took hold of Tanis' wrist, and teleported.

Everything went white and hot, and the world suddenly and violently spun. Tanis could only gasp before it all stopped, the world falling abruptly back into place. They were now in an entirely different place. He would never get used to teleporting, and highly doubted he would ever learn it for himself.

"Where are we?" he asked, gazing up at the foreboding mouth of a deep cavern, gaping up out of a mountainside. Looking around, he saw that they were in a very narrow valley, mountains rising up on all sides of them. It was rather claustrophobic.

"We are in the middle of the Pelorus Mountain Range," Riku answered.

"The Pelorus Mountains?!" Tanis cried, greatly surprised. "We went almost halfway across the world!"

Riku merely nodded.

"W-why did you bring us here?" Tanis asked, looking up at the towering peaks, feeling uneasy. The Pelorus Mountains were very remote, situated in an area where no ylfen lived and very few traveled. Not even the boldest of the nomadic kitschen came here. Tanis knew that the superstitious, ylfe and kitsche alike, considered these mountains to be evil. They were black and treeless, and they towered up into the heavens. Ylfen couldn't fly high enough to go over them. He suspected that they were the first ylfen to set foot in this tiny valley, leading from which he could see only one narrow passageway leading into the jagged cliffs.

"You will see," was his father's cryptic reply. "Can't you feel it?"

Tanis paused. What he had thought was the chill of his discomfort was actually emanating from the cavern in front of them. It was raw power, and oh how potent that power was. It was literally pouring into the world from deep within the earth.

Riku was entering the cavern. Tanis hurried after him, but stumbled on the uneven floor of the cave. Thankfully, his father conjured up a ball of white light to illuminate the way, and Tanis continued to follow him.

They kept going down, down, down, twisting and turning and sometimes plunging down sheer drops. If they hadn't the ability to float and fly, they could have died several times over. The powerful feeling just kept getting stronger and stronger as they went. Tanis' uneasiness was strengthening. It wasn't too long before he got the impression that they were miles below the entrance, though he had no way of knowing if he was right or wrong.

"Yes," Riku suddenly hissed, stopping. "There it is."

Tanis looked up, and his heart stopped. "A-a…" he stammered. "I-it's a Keyhole. It's the One World's Keyhole!"

"Yes," Riku said again. "This is what I was looking for." He made the ball of light, which lit the surrounding area quite well, float up above their heads as he turned around, set the case down again, and unfastened the strap that held the sword on his back. "My father had me fight him for this," he started slowly. "I will not do the same to you. You are a strong young man, but you are not a physical fighter. You are so much more skilled in the magic arts, and that alone has made you worthy of this sword. I pass it on to you, my son." He dropped down on his knees and held the sword up to Tanis, just as Sephiroth had done with him many centuries ago.

"Father, I…" Tanis murmured, unable to think of what to say. Slowly, he reached out and took the sword. "Thank you, Father."

Riku stood and touched Tanis' cheek, bringing their foreheads together. "You will find your mate soon, Tanis," he said, a sad smile on his face. "Soon, you will know the meaning of true happiness. Just be patient, my son, and you will find her in due time."

Tanis nodded, a lump in his throat.

"You'll need a way out of here," Riku mused aloud, and he called the ball of light down again. He began to mold it, until it received the shape of a large butterfly. Riku blew gently on it, and it fluttered up out of his hands and started flitting around Tanis' head. "When you are ready to go," he explained to Tanis, "just tell that to lead you out, then follow it."

"Yes, Father," Tanis said softly. "Why…why are you going to seal the Keyhole? Why are you going to stop the flow of magic?"

"I am tired of this cycle of death and sorrow we are all caught in," Riku said. "Yes, we can feel happiness, but our lives end in grief and agony. It should stop. No one deserves to suffer like that, yet it is our fate to do so. It has to stop!" He paused, then continued. "My heart tells me that the ylfen are drawing toward their waning time. Our time as the dominant species in the One World is drawing to a close, and the kitschen will take our place. It is time for us to start fading, to start leaving. Sealing this Keyhole will help greatly, perhaps even cause it. Our kind has survived for a very long time, and it is time we stepped aside and all departed for the World Beyond."

"I…I think I understand," Tanis said softly.

"Good," Riku nodded. "Do not worry. It will probably be at least a thousand years or two before changes start to be noticed. This world is so saturated with magic, that even if the source is turned off, the abundance will not start to go down for quite some time. Now, then…"

Riku grabbed his son and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Tanis," he whispered. "I wish I could stay, but your mother is calling to me. I have to go to her."

"Then, go," Tanis sighed. "We will see each other again someday, I am sure." He and his father separated, Riku picked up the case again, and Tanis watched stock-still as his father walked toward the gaping maw of the Keyhole. He was hugging the wooden case to his chest, and Tanis swore that Riku began to glow as he got closer and closer. Finally, he disappeared into the utter blackness.

The Keyhole suddenly blazed with light, the sparkling around the golden edges brightening to a blinding fire. Tanis had to shield his eyes, and as he looked away, he could hear a distinct clicking noise, like a latch falling securely into place.

_Goodbye, Son_, his father's warm voice echoed in his head.

The brightness died down, and Tanis could look at the Keyhole again. It was disappearing, the blackness fading out in patches, revealing the gray-black stone that made up the cave wall on which it hung. Finally, it disappeared altogether.

The Keyhole was gone, and his father with it. The fate of their people was sealed.

A single tear slipped down his right cheek, but a soft smile gently touched his lips. "Goodbye, Father."

**To be continued…**

**Author's Notes:** This is not the end. I have one more chapter after this, which I hope you are looking forward to. A brief epilogue will be at the end of the chapter.

I can't believe I'm almost done with this fic. Has it really been over a year since I started on it? Wow. Time sure flies, doesn't it?

So, what did you think of this very long chapter, huh? I would so like to hear from you guys. I've been getting very little feedback for this story lately. Let me know how you like this chapter in a review or an email, onegai shimasu!


	22. Reunions

**Author's Notes:** See chapter one for disclaimer.

**Separate Destinies**  
By Annie-chan  
Chapter Twenty-Two: Reunions

Power surged over and through him as he stepped through the Keyhole, entering a domain that the Heartless had thirsted for, that he himself had fought to conquer, enslaved to the point of no independent thought.

_Stay out_, the world heart seemed to be saying to him, trying to drive him back out. _You don't belong here. Stay out._

"But, I do," he said, using every ounce of will that he had to remain where he was. "There is a task to be completed, and I alone can do it."

_You would destroy your own people?_ the world's collective consciousness asked, as if trying to guilt him into changing his mind. _You would cut off the source of their power, their livelihood?_

"Our time is up," he gritted, his body starting to ache from the strain of the world heart's potency. "We are better off retreating to the Other World."

The world heart seemed to sigh sadly. _You were the first_, it said, _the first to have both human and ylfe blood flow within you. Your father's people could easily have shunned you for your mother's uncouth heritage, but they didn't. They took you in, treated you as if you were wholly one of them. Is this how you repay them?_

"You can't fight fate!" he cried, clutching at the box of keychains so tightly, his ribs creaked under the pressure. "You can't…fight…DESTINY!" As he forced the last word out, he felt tension break within him. Heat had been coalescing inside of him, swirling around his heart, becoming so intense that tears stung his eyes from the burn. At the same time, he had felt the keychains in the wooden box begin to resonate, responding to the unbidden rise of power in him. As it broke and burst from him, he realized what it was. He was the true Keyblade Master, but he did not really need the weapon to accomplish his task. It was only a crude physical manifestation of its purpose, and was able to function in the hands of another should he choose the wrong path. It was merely an insurance against his tendency as a mortal being to make mistakes. Destiny did not stand to be denied, so every step was taken to ensure it, and every possible twist and turn in events was accounted for.

The real power, however, which the Keyblade represented on a physical level, rested inside his soul. He himself was the weapon, and his heart was its point. The keychains were reacting to him, synchronizing with his heart to seal this one last Keyhole, the most powerful of them all. Kingdom Hearts in the Many Worlds, though the Heart of All Worlds in that dimension, still did not measure up to this colossal mass of power.

Riku thought he screamed as the searing heat consumed him like fire, burning so hot that he thought his bones would surely liquefy, but he couldn't be sure. A cacophony filled his ears, and he was unable to tell if his own vocal cords still worked. Finally, audible above everything else, he heard a massive _CLICK_, and knew that it was done. The Keyhole to the One World was now closed forever. He had sealed it shut, and with it sealed the fate of his people.

He seemed to be floating, and all sensations were quickly fading. Too weak to hold onto it, he let the display case slip from his grasp, and a tiredness greater than any he had experienced before fell upon him like a heavy blanket. As his consciousness was pulled irresistibly into darkness, he managed to smile briefly. He was going to see her again soon. Nothing now stood between them and Eternity.

Far away, it seemed, he could hear small waves beating ceaselessly against a warm, sandy beach…

* * *

He awoke without opening his eyes, and the first things he felt were sun above him and sand below him. He was lying on his side on the beach. He must have slipped off after kicking the proverbial snot out of the island's other visitors. It wasn't his fault. If they were dumb enough to keep challenging him, he'd just keep right on knocking them about. Logic said that they'd eventually get the picture and spare themselves further embarrassment.

He heard light footsteps coming toward him, but didn't have to open his eyes to discover who it was.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" a familiar voice chirped, its owner crouching down beside him in the sand.

He put an arm up over his head, halfheartedly shielding his ears from the words. He was comfortable here. "Leave me alone, Kairi."

Kairi.

He sat up quickly, scattering sand, his eyes wide as his brain tried to figure out if it was indeed her. Looking into soft blue eyes, he knew that it was.

She giggled. "I knew you'd wake up sooner or later."

"Kairi…" he managed, everything falling into place in his mind. He really had died. He had finally joined the people he had grown up with, but hadn't seen for countless years.

"I'm so happy to see you, Riku!" he laughed, tackling him as she lunged forward and threw her arms around him. He hit the sand with a thump, but found himself looking up at another familiar face.

"Sora…?"

"Don't tell me you forgot _me_, Riku," the newcomer grinned, teasing. He had never really lost his boyish looks.

"Sora!" Riku cried. "Kairi! Oh, it's so good to see you again!" Riku put one hand over his eyes, emotion welling up.

"Hey, don't cry!" Sora laughed.

"What's that?" Kairi suddenly asked, pointing to Riku's right, making both men look over.

"Hey! It's the box of keychains!" Sora blinked, pulling the half-buried box out of the sand. "How'd these get here?"

"They're a part of a part of me," Riku explained, "if that makes any sense." Talking slowly, as he was himself just starting to remember it, he told them of his venture into the Keyhole.

"But, why are we in the Destiny Islands?" he asked when he was finished. "I mean…"

"The afterlife is made up of the thoughts, memories, and feelings of the dead," Sora answered. "You can go anywhere and see anything here. You just have to think about it. If you wanted, you could go to Hollow Bastion, still in its fullest glory and beauty. Anything is possible here." As Riku listened, he and Kairi took turns explaining different aspects of the Other World. The dead of all peoples and races came here after death, and all abided here in peace. Those who had been wicked in life were sent to a Purgatory-like place first, where they were cleansed by paying for their deeds in life. Some waited only a few days before being permitted to leave, while others had to wait many years. No one who did not go there knew how they made up for their sins, and those who came from there did not remember. Those who were especially wicked were denied entrance even to that place, instead being reborn to try again from scratch. All traces of their previous life were erased from their being, reduced down to that primal seed that all souls started out as.

Riku listened patiently, but felt a growing anxiety in the back of his mind. Finally, when he thought he could stand it no longer, they finished.

"Where is she?" he asked almost before the last words were out of Kairi's mouth. He didn't think he needed to elaborate. "Why is she not here?"

"Oh, she's probably waiting where the temperature is more to her liking," Kairi said. "She's not used to this hot sun, you know. Oh, and we forgot to tell you: If you want to find someone, you don't have to search through all the countless 'worlds' here. Just think about them, like you were thinking about a place you'd like to go, and you'll go wherever they are. Travel is really easy here. Traverse Town is an important gathering place here, like it was in the Many Worlds while it still lasted. You almost always run into someone you know there."

Riku nodded and stood up. He could open a door to any place or anyone. He just had to think about it. It didn't sound too unlike teleportation. It wasn't exactly like teleportation, though. As he thought about Leiya, he reached out in front of him, knowing what to do like he'd done it a thousand times. The fabric of reality seemed to stretch, and he felt his hand and arm passing through a sudden "hole" that opened to another place entirely. Thinking far back to his pre-adult days, he realized that this was not very different from the holes he and Ansem tore in space-time to travel between places in the Hollow Bastion.

"Hey, what about these?" Sora asked, holding up the closed display case.

"Keep them for now," Riku said, looking back at his two oldest friends. "I'm sure we'll all be together a great deal from now on." With that, he stepped completely into the warp in space before him, vanishing from the white beach that he had spent most of his early childhood on. The world tilted crazily for a split second, and his feet were then on solid ground again. He looked around.

* * *

Leiya sighed, putting her chin on her hands. It was a sigh of happiness, not disappointment. She had felt Riku enter the Other World a little while ago, putting an abrupt stop to the suffering due to their separation. He had apparently come here in another place, perhaps where old friends are. She could wait for him to come to her. They had the rest of forever together, after all.

She stood leaning against a smooth balcony railing, looking out over the landscape. Cloud had brought her to Hollow Bastion to show it to her, as he knew she would love the lofty architecture and the sprawling plains around the castle, stretching for miles to the flat horizon. It had been his favorite place in the Many Worlds to go to, and she could see why. The central structure was of astounding beauty, with its tall spires and intricate layout, and the surrounding countryside was green and fertile, very lush and picturesque. She could see tilled fields, wild meadows, forests, lakes, and rivers, all by moving her eyes only a little. This was the place painters would die to visit, to reproduce on their canvasses. She could see the Rising Falls in the distance, the thin blue "cable" that the lifts traveled along shimmering delicately between them and the walkway leading to the castle's main gate.

Glancing to her right briefly, she saw Cloud looking out over the world as well, a woman beside him. Kirin was her name, and she was Cloud's destined mate. Aerie and her home, a town called Paastyur, were almost half the world away from each other, and the two had never crossed paths in life. Though it had caused them to live restless, largely unfulfilling lives, ending in what felt like boundless melancholy, they were together now, and there was no point in regretting what was in the past. Leiya was happy for them.

Suddenly, acting on seeming impulse, she hoisted herself up onto the railing and pushed out into the chasm of empty space between this large balcony and the general surface of the world. Floating easily, as her race was able, she started off toward the Rising Falls. Mist billowed up from them, and she couldn't actually see them until she got close. Landing on the lowest floating platform of rock, she looked up at the roaring waters. This was a very curious place, and anyone who sees it will be instantly fascinated with such an unusual display. Not only did the water travel upward, but the "surface" of the water at the bottom was strangely solid. One could walk across the jelly-like substance, but you sank if you stood in one spot for too long. Once underwater, it seemed no different than other water.

She suddenly straightened, her eyes going wide, as she sensed something several feet behind her, near the opposite edge of the platform. The loud roar of the waters seemed to be muffled, turning into a dull thrum.

"Leiya," his voice said gently, and she could hear the smile in it. She could feel a hand rest lightly on her back, and that soft touch completely reconnected them so quickly that both of them felt a shiver pass through them. Faster than she could think it, she spun around and threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly. He laughed, hugging her back.

"Riku!" she cried, her voice a little muffled against his chest. "Riku, you're here!"

He didn't answer, content to just hold her for now. The bond between them felt sweeter than before, and both were rejoicing in its reestablishment. Though short, their time apart had been extremely hard on both of them.

"Leiya," he finally said gently, kissing her ruddy hair. "Leiya, you're beautiful."

She, who had tears trickling down her cheeks, laughed brightly. It felt so good to hear that from him again.

"But," he continued, "though I'll be perfectly happy to spend forever like this, there's someone else I want to see, too." He was speaking lightly, and she could again hear his smile.

"Your father," she nodded, looking up at his face. "I know, Love, and I would have been disappointed if you didn't want to see him as soon as possible. Go find him, by all means."

"You come with me," he said. "You hardly knew him before he died, and there will be lots of other people I'll want to see again. I want you to meet them all."

"Of course!" she said. "I wouldn't miss that for the world."

"Come on, then," he said, taking her hand and again smiling that boyish grin of his. He seemed to push a hole in the fabric of space, pulling her through along with him. When they exited the warp, she stood close to him, a little dizzy.

"I've never seen it done like that before," she mentioned, shaking her head briefly as if to clear it.

Riku shrugged. "I did something like that when Ansem had me as a child. I guess it works the same way here." It sounded like he had done it without thinking, as if a long-buried habit had just resurfaced. "I can teach you, if you'd like." He glanced around, obviously looking for his father.

She nodded, then posed a question. "How is Tanis doing?"

"Depressed, of course, but that's to be expected at a time like this," he answered. "Don't worry about him, Leiya. He'll be perfectly all right."

She nodded again, looking around. They were in a sparsely wooded area, green grass growing in the ample sunlight reaching the ground. It reminded her of some parts of the Stretch near Aerie.

Riku's eyes landed on a familiar sight, a man so close to his own appearance that it was like looking into a mirror. The older man was standing with his arms crossed and a smile on his face, as if amused about something.

"I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you, Son," Sephiroth said, shaking his head as if Riku had taken too long and he was disappointed by it.

"Father…" Riku said softly, unsure about how to greet him. He had been the rock in his life during most of his younger days, but they hadn't seen each other or spoken for centuries now. A childish compulsion to run up and hug his father flitted about in the back of his mind, but he restrained himself. Sephiroth, it turned out, was the one to come closer.

Sephiroth touched his son's face lightly, as if inspecting him, and he appeared to be silently assessing something. Riku waited patiently. He was so happy to finally see his father again, but he wasn't about to spoil the moment.

"You did well, Riku," Sephiroth finally said, his smile gentler. "I've kept one eye on you ever since we last saw each other, and I couldn't be prouder about how you handled yourself and your life."

"You taught me, Father," Riku replied. "I can't take all the credit for how I lived."

"Neither can I," Sephiroth countered. "Some of it was a result of my teaching, I suppose, but it was mostly you. I can't take the credit for what you did on your own." His smile widened again. "You were a better ylfe than most purebloods could ever hope to be. I've already said this, but I'm very proud of you, Riku."

Riku nodded, emotion welling in him, and the urge to embrace his father reached its breaking point. He took one step forward, closing the distance between them, and put his arms around the older man, holding him tightly. Tears pricked his eyes as he felt his father return the embrace, holding him in the same firm, comforting way he had so many years ago when Riku let out his frustration and grief over his unreturned love for Kairi.

"I missed you, Father," he whispered, his head on Sephiroth's shoulder.

"I missed you, too, Son," Sephiroth replied. "More than you can imagine."

Riku smiled at that, and he could feel Leiya's happiness through their mental connection. She was overjoyed to see him like this, for throughout most of their lives together, there had always been a thin veil of sadness in him, regret over what was not and what may have been. That veil had been lifted, and she almost laughed at the thought that she was happy to see him in the arms of another.

"Sephiroth," a soft feminine voice suddenly said, making Riku open his eyes. "Dear, is this your son?"

"Of course it is," Sephiroth said, looking over at the tiny blonde woman who had approached. "Nah, I just go around hugging anyone who looks like me."

Wenna laughed, the sound like that of tiny silver bells. "Riku, I am so happy to finally meet you!"

"Likewise…um…" Riku responded, separating from Sephiroth. He was unsure about what to call this woman. He had heard so much about her, and had seen her in his father's memories, but she had been gone for so long and held such powerful sway over his father that she had acquired an almost legendary quality in Riku's mind. Just calling her by her name seemed almost disrespectful.

"Just 'Wenna', Riku," she said. "I've talked with your Leiya so much since she came, and she's told me so much about you. She is such a delight! You're a very lucky man." Her manner was very much like her daughter's.

"Uh, well, yes, I guess I am!" Riku replied, a bit embarrassed by her directness. He felt Leiya elbow him sharply, as if disappointed that he suggested with 'I guess' that his feelings weren't certain, though she giggled and blushed at Wenna's compliments. Riku caught the wry smile on his father's face, but hadn't the time to make a response before Wenna took his hand in her much smaller one.

"I want to thank you, Riku," she said, her tone much less bubbly. "You allowed your father to heal some before the end of his life, and by doing that, you also healed me. It hurt so much to be apart from him, but you managed to reduce that pain dramatically. I can't thank you enough for that."

Riku nodded slowly. "I don't know what to say," he said softly. "I mean…'you're welcome' seems so inadequate."

Wenna, who was only chest-height to Sephiroth, was not much bigger in comparison to Riku, only an inch or two shorter than his father. She reached up, touched his face, and stood on her tiptoes to give him a soft, grateful kiss on his cheek. He smiled.

"Well, now that that's been taken care of," Sephiroth said, "I say we start moving, Riku."

"Moving?" Riku asked, not comprehending.

"Of course," his father nodded. "You have lots of people to reunite with, and you can't do that just staying in one spot. Grab Leiya, or she'll be left behind." He gripped Riku's upper arm, white light beginning to flare up around them. "I don't know about you, but I think all this 'think about them, and you'll find them' gibberish is so inconvenient. Simple teleportation is so much easier. Come on, Dear." He pulled Wenna to him just as he teleported, rocketing them toward another place entirely.

Riku had grasped Leiya's hand, and she now clung to him as they exited that area and reentered in a totally different area. She would never get used to teleporting.

He laughed lightly at his mate's momentary disorientation, and planted a quick kiss on her lips to bring her back to the present time and place. "Come on, my love," he said. "Let's go."

****

**Epilogue**

Riku's understanding that the One World would lose its magic, and that the ylfen would slowly retreat from the living world was proven over time, but it happened much slower than he anticipated. Several generations went by before magic began to noticeably disappear. By then, Tanis and many of his descendants had already lived and died.

The ylfen seemed to accept this slow decline as their fate, and few fought against the inevitable. People started dying younger, and there came a point where no children were born from then on. Those who survived longest from each settlement gathered together, and that once glorious race lived out its final days in peace and obscurity. The kitschen had already begun to doubt that they existed.

Finally, no ylfe remained on the vast world they once called home. Their cities and towns stood empty, the shields and other defenses having long ago disappeared as if they never were. Their once well-tilled fields grew wild, and their herd animals once again adapted to shepherd-less lives, roaming the landscape at will, following the food supply. The kitschen, who had in the past feared and hated the ylfen, now saw the "supernatural" people as a legend, and that legend also grew distant in time, and they retreated even further back in memory, becoming vague myths and fairy tales.

Over time, all traces of their civilization disappeared from existence. Nature, which had accommodated and sheltered them, now took the settlements over completely. Homes dug into cliffs and hillsides became networks of seemingly natural caves. Homes in trees were overgrown and incorporated into the branches. Homes built on flat land were simply broken down and scattered by the wind and rain, the walls and roofs deteriorating back into raw materials. The disappearance was so complete, that the old storytellers among the kitschen, those who seemed to know more about old tales than they did about the present world, claimed that the last ylfen had used the last vestiges of magic left within them to ensure such thoroughness. They wished to be forgotten by the living, content to spend the rest of time with all the rest of their people in the afterlife. No ruin or artifact was ever found by kitschen, save one thing only.

As the magic faded, so did the charms and spells that had been in place since time immemorial. The ancient sword that was the symbol of authority among Riku and Sephiroth's line, became just an ordinary sword. No magical preservation remained on it as the end drew near, but it was polished regularly and taken very good care of by its last few owners. That sword represented the family pride, and they wished it to remain as it did with the spell still on it. It seemed to be the one thing that wasn't changing.

Finally, the last of that family passed on with the other remaining remnants of the ylfen. The sword, however, did not disappear. It lay alone and untended for an unknown length of time, until two kitsche youths discovered the mossy hilt poking out of the ground near a titanic limestone canyon. They unearthed the weapon, and were amazed at the length and weight. Pulling the blade from the scabbard, they found that dirt and other things had crept in, but that it was once a beautiful sword, and imagined that some magical king from the far past had once wielded it. They took it back to their town and delivered it to the priests who resided at the temple built to worship their deities. The priests cleaned and restored the blade, and when they did, an aged and grizzled old man exclaimed in surprise.

"What is the problem?" they asked.

"This is an ancient weapon!" he cried, seizing it and holding it up for everyone within sight to see. He probably knew more of the old tales than any kitsche alive at the time. "It was wielded by a man with a black wing and silver hair, and he had two faces!"

"Two faces?" they repeated, skeptical. "How can that be?"

"One was of terror and death," he explained, "and that he put forth most. But, he also had a face of gentleness and compassion, and only a very few ever saw him display it."

"He is speaking nonsense," they said among themselves. "It is just old man's talk. One black wing? That is impossible. Only birds have wings, and they have two. He is confusing reality with fairy tales. This sword is just an old artifact from some forgotten tribe with strange things and customs." Nonetheless, they took the sword and put it on display in the temple's prayer room for all who wished to see it. There it stayed for as long as the temple lasted, and that was a very long time. Many, many people from all around came to look at it and wonder at where it came from and how old it was.

Just on the other side of reality, however, the man with two faces—really two separate men—smiled, knowing that all would learn the truth once they died, that the fairy people of distant legend were actually a solid and undeniable fact. Until then, however, there was no harm in letting them interpret history as they will.

"You only live once," the slightly taller one said to the other.

"Mmhm," the other agreed.

**Owari**

**Author's Notes:** Ah, it feels good to finally finish this story. I knew how I wanted it to end almost from the start, and I finally got to write the end. I had some trouble with wording, as an idea that sounds great in your head, as if playing like a movie, can be awkward when put into sentences. I hope I pulled it off well, and I hope my readers tell me if they think I did or not.

This last chapter and epilogue could have been a story in their own right. I mean, there are lots of people, both from the Many Worlds and the One World, that Riku will be reunited with, and I can only imagine how long it would be if I wrote about them all. There's his mother, for example. Seeing as she's the other half of the pair that brought Riku into the world, I wanted to have his meeting with her in here. But, I was having too much trouble with how it should be. Should it be a tense reunion, or a sad one? Should she regret the kind of childhood she gave him, or not? Should Sephiroth and Wenna be there, and if they were, what kind of feelings to they have about the whole thing? I finally decided to just leave it out and let readers imagine it how they want. Better to leave out a part then have it done badly and thus detract from the rest of the chapter.

Now, I've worked on this fic for more than a year. It's by far my longest story to date, and I'm quite proud of it. Yes, I kept readers waiting long periods of time between some chapters, especially in the second half or so. I'm glad you were patient with me, though. The best way to judge how your readers like you is to see if they stick with you, not just their initial reactions to your work. Thanks, everyone, and I hope my future writings get the same kind of response that "Separate Destinies" did.


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